THE  END 

OF    THE 


By 
STELLA  M.  DURING 


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THE  END  of  the  RAINBOW 


ENJOYABLE    NOVELS 

BY    STELLA    M.    DURING 

THE  $i,ooo  PRIZE  MYSTERT 
STORT 

LOVE'S  PRIVILEGE 


"  The  story  is  splendidly  written,  the 
characters  are  strongly  drawn,  it  is  full  of  life 
and  action  and  altogether  one  of  the  most 
delightfully  baffling  stories  of  love  and 
mystery  in  modern  fiction.'' 

— Pittsburg  Dispatch. 


liluitrated  in  Color.      izmo. 
Cloth,  luith  Inlay  in  Colors,  $I.^O 

DISINHERITED 


"There  is  no  hint  of  the  sensa- 
tional denouement  until  it  comes 
upon  the  reader  suddenly.  The 
story  is  well  written,  the  plot  skil- 
fully worked  out." 

— Brooklyn  Eagle. 


Colored  Frontispiece 
I2mo.      Ornamental  Cloth,  $I.JO 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  PHILADELPHIA 


"SHE   LAID   BOTH    HER   HANDS  ON   HIS  SHOULDERS" 


Page  2q3 


THE  END  OF  THE 
RAINBOW 


BY 

STELLA  M.  DURING 

AUTHOR  or  "disinherited,"  "love's  privilege,"  etc. 


WITH  A  FRONTISPIECE  BY 
ETHEL  PENNEWILL  BROWN 


PHILADELPfflA  &^  LONDON 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1910 


Copyright,  1910, 
By  Stella  M.  During 


Printed  by  J.  B.  Lippincott  Company 
The  Washington  Square  Press,  Philadelphia,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

I  do  not  presume — or  pretend — to  solve  problems.  I 
have  no  pocket  gospel  to  preach.  I  have  simply  tried  to 
draw  the  men  and  women  I  have  known,  with  all  their  per- 
plexities and  imperfections. 

S.  M.  D. 


2135188 


THE   END  of  the  RAINBOW 


"  /  know  who  is  the  prettiest  girl  in  this  room." 
The  room  was  a  large  one,  nearly  square,  with  one 
large  bow  window  and  one  dressing-table  and  one  wash- 
ing-stand with  two  washing-basins  on  it.  In  each  of  the 
room's  four  corners  stood  a  small  bed  pushed  flat  against 
the  wall  and  covered  with  a  white  counterpane.  With 
regard  to  morning  toilets  some  little  arrangement  and 
a  good  deal  of  diplomacy  were  necessary,  for  eight  girls 
shared  the  one  looking-glass,  the  two  wash-handbasins 
and  the  four  little  beds.  One  had  undisputed  possession 
of  the  looking-glass  for  once.  Whether  she  was  or  was 
not  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  room  could  not  at  this  moment 
have  been  decided,  for  her  face  was  completely  hidden 
under  a  cloud  of  brown  hair.  Her  arms,  raised  high 
above  her  head  in  the  endeavour  to  brush  thoroughly 
and  effectually  that  unruly  mass  of  waves  and  curls, 
gleamed  satin-like  in  the  light  of  a  solitary  candle.  She 
felt  her  cheeks  flush  suddenly  hot  beneath  it  as  the  clear, 
childish .  voice,  with  a  suggestion  of  impish  mischief  in 
it,  broke  upon  and  dominated  the  buzz  of  brisk  conversa- 
tion in  the  room.  It  was  silly  to  blush,  she  told  herself, 
especially  for  what  a  child  like  that  might  say,  but  the 
blush  slowly  mastered  her,  flooding  her  whole  body  with 
rushes  of  crimson  till  the  very  backs  of  her  arms  felt  hot. 
"  Girls,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was  musical  and 
low  and  full  of  unexpected  cadences,  "  couldn't  we  have 
that  wretched  candle  out  and  undress  by  the  moonlight? 
It's  ever  so  much  nicer  and  quite  as  light." 

7 


8  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  Lilith's  blushing,"  the  mischievous,  sing-song  voice 
that  had  spoken  first  announced  with  all  the  intolerable 
perspicacity  of  eleven,  "  and  she  doesn't  want  us  to  see." 

"  You  get  into  bed,  May  Calderon,"  said  a  sharp- 
nosed  girl  busily  engaged  in  rummaging  out  a  very 
untidy  drawer,  "  it's  time  you  were." 

"  I  am,"  said  May  sweetly. 

She  was  sitting  in  her  night-dress  on  the  further  side 
of  the  bed  she  shared  with  Ellen  Druce,  the  sharp-nosed 
girl  at  the  drawer.  Ellen  being  the  biggest  and  she  the 
smallest  in  the  room,  the  partnership,  having  regard  to 
the  size  of  the  beds,  had  seemed  desirable.  She  crossed 
two  small  white  feet  as  she  spoke,  and  took  hold  of  her 
two  slender  ankles  in  her  little  red  hands.  With  her 
flaxen  curls  tossed  over  her  baby  face  she  would  have 
made,  for  anyone  failing  to  appreciate  a  certain  shrewd 
watchfulness,  a  suggestion  of  veiled  vigilance  in  her 
china-blue  eyes,  a  most  engaging  picture  of  absolutely 
cherubic  innocence. 

"  And  we're  going  to  say  our  prayers,  now,"  remarked 
the  tall  girl,  hurriedly  rearranging  the  things  in  her 
drawer  with  a  superficial  tidiness  calculated  to  deceive  the 
eyes  of  possible  prying  governesses.  ''  You  had  better 
say  yours,  too,  whilst  it  is  quiet." 

"  I  have  said  mine,"  answered  the  child. 

Ellen  looked  sharply  at  her. 

"  Then  it  must  have  been  quite  at  first,  when  we 
were  all  jabbering.  They  can't  have  done  you  much 
good." 

May  put  her  head  on  one  side  and  answered  nothing  ; 
that  was  a  point  she  did  not  feel  called  upon  to  decide. 
The  "  saying "  of  her  prayers  was  a  tiresome  duty. 
It  was,  however,  conscientiously  performed;  therefore, 
for  the  present,  Heaven  and  she  were  at  peace. 

"I'm  not  going  to  say  them  again,"  she  announced 
with  decision. 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  have  said  them  once,"  agreed  her 
mentor  a  little  grudgingly. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  9 

Silence  fell,  room  nine  was  saying  its  prayers.  The 
only  exceptions  were  May  Calderon,  who  had  said  hers 
already,  and  Lilith  Somers,  who  refused  to  say  hers  at 
all.  The  soft  swishing  of  her  hairbrush  punctuated  the 
silence.  There  was  something  of  defiance  in  its  measured 
sweep.  The  worshippers  rose  one  by  one  from  their 
knees,  and  each  as  she  rose  directed  her  glance  at  the 
sixteen-year-old  rebel  before  the  one  looking-glass.  But 
curiosity,  indignation,  amusement,  scandalised  disap- 
proval, all  glanced  harmlessly  off  the  armour  of  her 
complete  indifference.  For  none  of  these  things  did 
Lilith  blush. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  room  was  heavily  electric. 
Anything  might  occasion  a  discharge.  May  Calderon 
took  it  upon  herself  to  divert  the  current. 

"  I  know,"  she  said  again  in  the  same  mischievous 
sing-song,  "  who  is  the  prettiest  girl  in  this  room. 
And  I  know  who  thinks  so,  too.  I  saw  him  in  church 
again  to-night." 

"  H'sh-sh !  You  go  to  sleep,  May  Calderon !  "  The 
emphatic  injunction  came  from  two  of  the  elder  girls 
together.  "  You  ought  not  to  know  anything  about 
such  things !  " 

"  O-oh !  "  protested  May  in  accents  long  drawn  out 
of  unutterable  scorn,  "  why,  when  I  was  at  home " 

"  Look  here,"  said  Ellen  Druce  severely,  "  if  you 
can't  be  a  good  girl  in  here  we  won't  have  you.  You 
ought  to  be  among  the  little  ones;  you  are  much  too 
young  for  us.  And  if  I  complain  to  Miss  Salter  about 
the  bed  being  narrow  you'll  go  back ;  you  know  you  will. 
If  you  are  going  to  get  too  clever  we  won't  have  you 
here." 

"  I'm  not  getting  too  clever,"  protested  May  plain- 
tively. "  I  was  only  going  to  say  that  when  I  am  at 
home  we  have  six  candles  to  undress  by,  lovely  big  wax 
ones  in  silver  sticks.  Not  a  horrid  little  smoky  paraffin 
thing  like  that." 

"  If  you  are  so  very  grand  at  home,  Calderon,"  re- 
marked Muriel  Weatherly  with  withering  sarcasm,  "  I 


10  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

wonder  they  haven't  taught  you  to  speak  English  prop- 
erly. W-a-x  doesn't  spell  wox!" — May  hailed  from 
the  North  Riding,  and  such  was  her  unfortunate  pronun- 
ciation.    "  Anybody  might  know  that !  " 

"  I  didn't  say  '  wox.'  " 

"  Get  into  bed,  story,"  commanded  Muriel  severely, 
and  May,  for  the  moment  completely  quenched,  obeyed. 

A  bell  rang  somewhere.  Ellen  Druce  blew  out  the 
candle,  and  seven  young  people  in  various  stages  of 
disarray,  but  not  one  so  attired  that  a  night's  rest  was 
possible,  jumped  into  bed  and  pulled  the  coverlets  up  to 
their  chins.     A  heavy  foot  ascended  the  stairs. 

"  It's  Fraulein,"  said  Muriel  in  a  quick  whisper. 
"  She  never  sees  anything !  " 

"  Schlaft  wohl,  yoong  laties,"  said  Fraulein  amia- 
bly, and,  taking  the  candlestick,  departed. 

The  soft  thud  of  her  flat  foot  in  a  felt  slipper  went 
slowly  down  the  stairs,  reached  the  school-room  door, 
and  died  behind  its  familiar  clash.  Muriel  jumped  lightly 
out  of  bed  again,  pulled  up  the  blind  and  let  a  flood 
of  moonlight  into  the  room. 

*'  It's  a  good  thing  for  us  it  wasn't  Ma'mselle,"  she 
said.  "  She  has  eyes  like  gimlets  and  a  nose  like  a  weasel. 
We  should  all  have  been  caught.  A^  it  is,  we  can-  take 
our  time  and  undress  comfortably.  But  hurry  up,  girls, 
I've  something  to  tell  you." 

"  Not  about  me !  " 

There  was  a  quick  note  of  apprehension,  almost 
terror,  in  Lilith's  voice.  Among  schoolgirls,  delicacy 
of  feeling  is  sometimes  far-  to  seek,  reverence  for  the 
deeper  mysteries  of  life  yet  to  he-  learnt.  Ta  Lilith  there 
was  something  hideous  in  the  idea  of  the  handling  to 
which  what  was  stirring  her  undeveloped  womanhood 
to  its  depths  was  likely  to  be  subjected.  Pure  dread 
wrung  the  protest  from  her.     Muriel  laughed. 

"  You,"  she  said  with  fine  scorn.  "  I  shouldn't  be 
likely  to  waste  my  time  telling  what  everyone  can  see 
for  herself !     Oh,  Lilith,  hasn't  he  got  lovely  eyes !  " 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  11 

"  And  he  never  took  them  off  you  the  whole  service !  " 
It  was  Amy  Lethbridge,  a  girl  who  had  so  far  been 
silent.  "  I  am  sure  his  father  will  notice  it  if  it  is  as 
marked  next  Sunday!  I  shouldn't  like  to  have  a  rector 
for  my  father!     It  must  be  a  nuisance  sometimes." 

"  I  wish  it  was  me  he  looked  at !  "  said  Muriel  with 
a  frank  sigh,  "  I  wouldn't  stand'  with  my  eyes  glued  to 
my  prayer-book  like  you  do,  Lilith ;  I  would  look  back. 
It  isn't  as  if  he  were  not  worth  looking  at!  He  has  a 
head  like  a  Greek  god !  " 

"  You  have  read  that  in  a  book,"  remarked  Ellen 
Druce,  crisply.  "  It's  very  silly  to  quote  things  like  that, 
because  everyone  recognises  them.  Lilith,  if  he  speaks 
to  you,  what  will  you  do?" 

Lilith  said  nothing,  the  bare  idea  of  such  a  possibility 
paralysing  her  tongue  and  checking  her  breathing. 
She  was  in  bed,  now,  with  Muriel,  her  bed-fellow. 
Muriel  raised  herself  on  her  elbow,  the  better  to  discuss 
such  a  thrilling  suggestion. 

"  He  won't  speak,  he'll  write — ^at  least,  I  should 
think  so.  I'm  sure  after  to-night,  he  must  do  some- 
thing!" 

"  Lilith !  "  announced  Ellen  Druce,  and  she  clearly 
voiced  the  decision  of  that  majority  before  whose  tyranny 
a  hopeless  minority  of  one  cowered  and  shrank  in  vain, 
"  if  he  does  write  you  will  show  us  his  letter !  " 

There  was  a  moment's  dead  silence.  Judgment  had 
gone  forth,  the  ruthless  decision  of  ruthless  girlhood. 
Appeal  was  in  vain,  acquiescence  impossible.  Silence 
was  all  that  was  left  the-  victim  under  torture,  the  silence 
thai  would  be  construed  into  consent.  The  tears  in 
Lilith's  eyes  felt  cool  to  her  hat  eyeballs,  the  linen  pillow- 
slip grateful  indeed  to  her  glowing  cKeek.  The  room 
waited  for  a  reply  of  some  sort.  When  it  did  not  come, 
Muriel  dug  her  companion  in  the  side  with  a  not  un- 
kindly elbcKV. 

"  Lilith,"  she  whispered,  "  what  is  the  matter?  Why 
are  you  trembling  all  over  ?    What  for  ?  " 


12  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  Because  you  are  horrid !  "  Lilith's  smothered  voice, 
trembling  with  indignant  shame,  was  only  just  audible, 
but  her  words  fell  clear.  "Horrid!  every  one  of  you! 
I  shan't  tell  you  anything!  I  shan't  show  you  any- 
thing !  " 

Ellen  Druce  sat  up  in  bed  and  folded  her  long  arms 
around  her  raised  knees. 

"  Lilith,"  she  said,  and  the  little  plaits  into  which  she 
had  confined  her  sparely-growing  fair  hair  by  way  of 
making  the  most  of  its  scantiness  rattled  against  her 
tightly  drawn  scalp  as  she  shook  an  admonitory  head, 
"  if  you  don't  play  fair,  quite  fair,  I'll  tell  Miss  Salter 
all  about  it." 

"  I  don't  call  it  playing  fair,"  said  Lilith  desperately. 

"  Don't  make  a  fuss,"  Muriel  adjured  her  in  a  friendly 
undertone.  "  She  will  tell  Miss  Salter  if  you  vex  her, 
nasty,  mean  thing!  And  he  hasn't  written  yet — so  you 
can't  show  his  letter.  I'll  help  you,  if  you'll  promise 
not  to  keep  me  out  of  it.  You  let  Lilith  alone,  Ellen," 
she  advised.  "  If  anything  happens  of  course  she  will 
tell,  the  same  as  the  rest  of  us  would.  And  it  is  no  use 
vexing  her  beforehand ;  you  know  how  obstinate  she  is ! 
Lie  down  again,  and  I'll  tell  you —  Is  May  Calderon 
asleep  ?  " 

This  sounded  promising.  May  Calderon's  little 
frame,  under  the  spare  bedclothes,  quivered  all  over  with 
eager  anticipation,  but  to  all  appearances  no  child  ever 
slept  sounder.  The  absolute  repose  of  her  cherubic  little 
face  and  the  rhythmic  regularity  of  her  breathing  was 
quite  enough  for  Ellen  Druce's  superficial  sense  of 
responsibility. 

"  Fast,"  she  announced  with  easy  certainty.  "  Go  on, 
Muriel." 

It  was  an  absorbingly  interesting  story,  abounding 
in  lurid  suggestion  and  inference  and  descending  some- 
times into  detail  that  would  have  made  a  smoking-room 
blush.  Under  the  stress  of  it  May  Calderon's  tight-shut 
eyes  opened  and  shone,  twin  stars  in  the  darkness,  and 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  13 

her  breathing  was  no  longer  rhythmic  and  regular.  An 
incautious  movement  attracted  Ellen  Druce's  attention. 

"  You  were  awake  all  the  time,  you  little  toad,"  she 
said. 

"  Well,  you  knew,"  answered  May  hardily. 

There  was  no  time  for  further  remonstrance,  a  breath- 
less room  hung  on  Muriel's  words,  and,  argued  Ellen 
with  a  faintly  stirring  conscience,  if  May  had  heard  so 
much  she  might  just  as  well  hear  all. 

But  Muriel  failed  of  one  listener;  Lilith  buried  her 
hot  face  in  her  pillow  and  laid  her  arms  on  either  side 
of  it,  so  that  their  soft  roundness  closed  to  every  sound 
her  rosy  little  ears. 

A  sense  of  shame,  of  ignominy,  of  revolt  at  the  pre- 
tences and  insincerities  that  surrounded  her  was  over 
her.  What  would  he  say  if  he  could  hear  such  stories 
as  Muriel  told !  For  the  first  time  a  wish  that  she  were  in 
another  room,  away  from  Muriel  and  Ellen  Druce,  pos- 
sessed her;  even  in  Room  Five,  where  they  were  all 
religious.     Were  such  stories  told  in  Room  Five? 

"  Yet  they  all  said  their  prayers  in  here,"  she  re- 
minded herself,  "  all  but  me.  I  didn't !  I'm  glad  I 
didn't!" 


II 


"  LiLiTH,  have  you  written  out  your  six  irregular 
verbs?" 

Into  Lilith's  eyes  leapt  a  startled  negative.  Irregu- 
lar verbs  had  not  been  mentioned  or  thought  of  since 
Saturday  last,  and  between  Saturday  last  and  to-day 
yawned  a  gulf  great  enough  to  account  for  any  amount 
of   forgetfulness,     Muriel   giggled   apprehensively. 

"  You'll  catch  it,"  was  her  inelegant  prophecy.  "  You 
had  all  yesterday,  and  you  just  mooned  about.  Ma'm- 
selle  will  be  ready  in  ten  minutes,  and  she  never  forgets 
anything,  or  overlooks  it  either.  I  wouldn't  stand  in 
your  shoes,  my  dear,  for  something." 

"  Oh,  bother,"  said  Lilith. 

A  stab  of  recollection  caught  the  word  in  her  throat 
and  strangled  it.  Last  week  she  might  have  said,  "  Oh, 
bother ! "  but  not  this.  Last  week  life  had  held  no 
keener  interest  than  the  mastering  of  her  irregular  verbs 
and  the  keeping  of  her  place  in  Ma'mselle's  estimation. 
This  week  the  relative  values  of  things  were  changed. 

"  And  what  have  you  got  your  second-best  frock  on 
for?"  inquired  Muriel  curiously;  "you  are  not  going 
out  anywhere ! " 

Lilith  glanced  down  at  the  simple  dress  of  blue 
woollen  stuff  that  constituted  her  "  second-best  frock." 
It  was  softly  ruffled  with  lace  at  throat  and  wrists,  and 
the  colour  brought  out  the  tintings  of  her  skin  and  the 
lights  in  her  hair.  Though  "  he "  could  not  see  her 
in  her  "  second-best  frock,"  that  she  should,  as  far  as 
in  her  lay,  deserve  his  admiration  if  he  could  have  seen 
her  was  an  unescapable  prompting. 

"  My  schoolroom  frock  is  too  small  for  me,"  she 
answered  slowly,  and  then  she  blushed,  suddenly,  vividly, 
14 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  15 

and  for  no  discoverable  cause.  May  Calderon's  lynx 
eyes  were  on  her. 

"  Lilith's  in  love,"  she  said  in  the  intolerable  sing- 
song of  the  small  child  daringly  sharpening  the  point  of 
her  impertinence. 

Lilith  turned  on  her,  a  flaming-eyed  Maenad,  a 
sixteen-year-old  fury.  It  was  intolerable  that  the  pearls 
of  existence,  but  yesterday  discovered,  whose  lustre  and 
purity  she  was  only  herself  dimly  beginning  to  discern, 
should  be  scattered  before  swine  like  these. 

"You  little  pig!"  she  said  passionately  and  checked 
herself.  Last  week  she  might  have  called  May  Cal- 
deron  a  pig.  This  week  her  actions,  her  words,  even 
her  thoughts  must  be  brought  before  a  new  tribunal,  to 
be  judged  by  an  unknown  standard.  Would  he  ap- 
prove if  he  heard  her  call  May  Calderon  a  pig?  She 
dropped  upon  the  nearest  locker,  crossing  her  arms  on 
the  desk,  and  hid  a  quivering  face  in  the  folds  of  her 
soft  blue  sleeves. 

"  Go  away,"  she  said,  her  voice  breaking  tragically 
through  its  mufflings ;  "  I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you,  any 
of  you !     I  hate  you,  all  of  you." 

Muriel  laughed. 

"  Let  her  alone,  idiot,"  she  said,  throwing  an  easy 
arm  about  May's  thin  shoulders.  "  What  is  the  use 
of  getting  rises  out  of  Lilith  when  there  is  no  one  to 
enjoy  it  but  us  two.  Come  away  and  hold  your  tongue. 
You  get  heaps  too  cheeky." 

"Does  she  hate  us?"  inquired  the  child  aghast. 

"  Yes,"  laughed  Muriel,  "  to-day !  She  won't  to-mor- 
row. That  is,  she  won't  hate  me;  she  will  you  if  you 
don't  mind  what  you  say.  Besides,  if  you're  not  careful, 
you'll  spoil  all  the  fun.  Isn't  this  your  practice  time, 
May  Calderon  ?  "  and  with  a  shriek  of  recollection  May 
Calderon  vanished,  to  bang  out  the  overture  to 
"  Oberon  "  on  the  dining-room  piano. 

The  room  they  had  left  was  quiet,  blessedly  quiet. 
The  voices  of  the  girls  playing  tennis  at  the  bottom 


16  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

of  the  garden  came  not  unpleasantly  to  the  ear.  A  bee 
buzzed  desperately  up  and  down  a  closed  window,  not 
seeing  an  open  one  a  yard  away.  The  sun  fell  warm  and 
grateful  across  Lilith's  blue  back  as  she  sat  waiting 
for  the  storm  of  her  present  mood  to  abate.  A  girl  of 
sixteen  feels  acutely,  but  her  perception  of  what  she  feels 
is  vague.  The  deepest  and  most  prominent  conviction 
in  Lilith's  mind  this  afternoon  was  that  the  world  was 
a  Pigstye  exclusively  peopled  by  Pigs.  The  blessed  sus- 
picion that  that  conviction  might  perhaps  apply  only 
to  her  own  particular  little  world,  that  somewhere  in  the 
cosmogony  might  be  found  a  world  that  was  not  a  pig- 
stye,  a  world  whose  inhabitants  were  men  and  women 
and  not  pigs,  a  world  where  even  Lilith  Somers  might 
be  happy,  she  owed  to  Ralph  Mansfield.  His  undis- 
guised admiration  on  Sunday  had,  as  it  were,  lifted  a  tiny 
corner  of  the  curtain  that  hung  between  her  and  that 
world  of  men  and  women  that  were  not  pigs,  and  had 
given  her  a  tiny  glimpse  of  its  possibilities.  Would  he 
ever,  with  potent,  masculine  hand,  sweep  away  that 
curtain  altogether,  and  reveal  the  whole  of  that  world 
to  her  dazzled  eyes?  Existence  since  Sunday  had  re- 
solved itself  into  memory.     Hope  was  not  yet  born. 

Suddenly,  as  the  hard  drumming  of  her  pulses  sub- 
sided, Lilith  was  disturbingly  conscious  of  the  buzzing 
bee.  She  rose  and,  with  due  caution  for  both  herself 
and  it,  entangled  its  hooked  and  furry  legs  in  the  tex- 
ture of  her  handkerchief. 

"  I  would  kiss  you — if  you  wouldn't  sting  me  for 
it,"  she  said  to  the  angry  and  suspicious  little  insect, 
exploring  with  buzzings  and  flutterings  that  unfamiliar 
territory,  and  then  she  shook  him  out  on  the  cool,  bright 
air,  and  watched  him  as  he  shot  upwards  into  freedom. 

That  was  Tuesday.  On  Wednesday  the  monotony 
of  the  week  was  broken  by  an  afternoon  service  in  the 
parish  church,  at  which  the  pupils  from  Ascham  House 
were  invariably  present.  "  Shall  I  see  him?  Shall  I 
see  him  on  Wednesday  ? "  Lilith  asked  a  quivering 
heart. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  17 

Mademoiselle  interposed.  So  unaccustomed  was 
Lilith  to  pains  and  penalties  for  neglected  work  that 
she  had  forgotten,  amongst  other  things,  the  particular 
pain  and  penalty  attaching  to  the  non-presentation  of 
French  verbs. 

"  And  how  is  this,  Mees  Somerrrs  ?  "  inquired  Made- 
moiselle. "  Yesterrrday,  no  exerrrcise ! — to-day,  no 
verrrbs !  You  wrrrite  them  out,  Mees  Somerrrs,  seex 
times  each  verrrb!  You  will  find  ze  chief  of  ze  time 
to-morrow,  when  ze  ozer  young  ladies  are  at  churrrch. 
Ozer  time  you  make.  I  expect  each  verrrb  seex  times 
on  Saturday.  I  advise  you  not  to  forget,  Mees 
Somerrrs." 

Muriel  giggled.  Lilith  flashed  a  stormy  look  at  her 
and  set  her  small  teeth. 

That  night,  when  the  candle  had  departed  in  Frau- 
lein's  limp  grasp,  Lilith  rose  again,  fully  dressed,  from 
her  place  by  Muriel's  side,  hung  a  handkerchief  over  the 
key-hole,  pushed  a  shawl  to  the  bottom  of  the  door,  and 
produced  matches,  candle,  ink  and  exercise  book. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  asked  Ellen  Druce. 

"  H'sh,  let  her  alone,"  answered  Muriel  quickly;  "  she 
has  her  verbs  to  write." 

In  the  morning  Lilith  dressed  in  the  gloaming  and 
wrote  steadily,  while  the  others  scrambled  through  more 
or  less  hasty  toilets. 

"  Bet !  "  screamed  Ellen,  wildly  waving  an  imaginary 
betting-book  over  her  head.  "  Which  will  you  back, 
girls,  the  verbs  or  Lilith  ?  " 

"  Lilith,"  said  Muriel  crisply,  and  then  they  all 
laughed  again. 

Lilith  looked  darkly  up  and  then  wrote  on  again. 
In  the  breaks  between  meals  and  school,  in  the  pauses 
between  lessons,  still  Lilith  wrote.  By  half-past  twelve 
she  took  up  to  Mademoiselle  thirty-six  neatly-written 
French  verbs. 

"  But  it  is  phenomenal,  such  industry ! "  Made- 
moiselle ran  her  gimlet  eye  and  weasel  nose  along  page 


18  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

after  page.  The  work  was  absolutely  correct;  not  an 
ending  was  misplaced ;  not  an  accent  missing. 

"  May  I  go  to  church  with  the  others?  "  asked  Lilith 
meekly. 

Ma'mselle  flashed  a  suspicious  look  at  her. 

"  You  are  ver'  anxious — ^to  go  to  church !  "  she  said. 


Ill 


"  LiLiTH,  he's  there !  " 

Had  the  thirty  pairs  of  lungs  shouted  the  informa- 
tion into  her  shrinking  ears  it  could  not  have  been  more 
clearly  conveyed  to  her  than  the  thirty  pairs  of  eyes 
managed  to  convey  it,  as  thirty  pairs  of  feet  went  echoing 
up  the  long  aisle  of  the  grey  old  church  that  Wednes- 
day afternoon.  Lilith  stumbled  over  the  threshold  of 
the  pew  and  dropped,  aware  of  actual  physical  faintness, 
upon  her  knees.  With  the  hard  beating  of  her  heart 
against  the  bookrest  upon  which  she  leant,  her  whole 
girlish  body  visibly  rose  and  fell.  Muriel  "  jogged " 
her  once  again  with  an  admonitory  elbow. 

"  Lilith,  Ma'mselle's  just  behind,"  she  said. 

The  caution  steadied  her  to  the  semblance  of  her 
ordinary  self.  The  church  was  still  filled  with  a  lumin- 
ous mist,  through  which  she  could  see  but  one  face;  a 
noise  as  of  many  waters  was  in  her  ears,  above  which 
nothing  was  audible  but  the  ringing  beat  of  her  own 
pulses,  but  she  could  sit  and  stand  and  kneel  mechani- 
cally with  the  others.  The  first  thing  that  roused  her  to 
vivid  consciousness  was  a  whisper  from  Muriel  that 
seemed  to  thunder  into  space  and  echo  sombrely  through 
every  rounded  archway.  "  Lilith,  he's  sketching  you ! — 
on  the  back  of  an  old  envelope !  " 

He  was,  openly,  flagrantly,  from  his  seat  in  the  rec- 
tory pew  at  the  back  of  the  choir  stalls.  The  broad, 
parental  back  turned  on  him  as  its  owner  read  the  lessons 
at  the  big,  brass  lectern  had  no  cunning  eyes  to  see 
the  enormity  of  which  his  son  was  guilty,  and  for  other 
eyes  Ralph  cared  very  little.  To  anything  beyond  colour 
and  line  in  the  face  that  had  attracted  him,  to  the  identity 
expressed  by  the  curves  of  cheek  and  chin,  to  the  awaken- 

19 


20  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

ing  soul  looking  shyly  out  of  the  eyes  changing  wonder- 
fully moment  by  moment,  as  lights  and  shadows  change 
on  shoaling  water,  he  was  absolutely  indifferent;  but 
colour  and  line  in  this  instance  had  not  only  attracted, 
it  had  intoxicated  him.  He  was  ripe  for  any  folly  that 
would  bring  him  and  the  face  that  had  haunted  his  brain 
and  fired  his  imagination  ever  since  Sunday  into  closer 
relationship. 

Even  now,  careless  of  either  order  or  decency,  he 
strove  to  make  that  face  his  own,  but  the  medium  was 
miserably  inadequate.  A  pencil  sketch — of  tinting  so 
exquisite,  expression  so  elusive !  To  be  sure,  a  pencil 
sketch  was  better  than  nothing,  but  the  necessity  to  obtain 
something  better  than  a  pencil  sketch  was  on  him  like 
an  aching  hunger.  How  was  it  to  be  done?  How  se- 
cure an  hour,  perhaps  two,  alone  with  a  girl  hedged 
round  by  the  restrictions  of  Ascham  House? — a  girl 
whose  very  name  he  had  not  known  till  Sunday? 

And  that  he  should  be  alone  with  her  was  necessary, 
since  it  was  not  Lilith  frozen  into  decorum  and  propriety 
of  demeanour  by  a  rigid  chaperon  that  he  wished  to 
paint  at  all,  but  Lilith  as  she  was  capable  of  looking 
under — well,  other  circumstances;  as  she  had  looked  on 
Sunday,  for  instance,  when  he  had  dared  to  smile  at  her 
boldly,  brilliantly,  over  the  heads  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  people.     How  was  that  to  be  done? 

An  entire  devotion  to  Art  eliminates  conscience — 
and  Fortune  favoured  him.  The  mist  had  lain,  gauzy 
and  wreathlike,  all  day  in  the  low-lying  meadows.  Sud- 
denly it  rolled  in  from  the  eastern  sea  in  milk-white 
billows  that  piled  themselves  against  the  stained-glass 
windows  of  the  old  church,  faintly  resplendent  a  moment 
ago  in  red  and  purple  and  blue  as  the  pale  sun  of  late 
September  peeped  through  them.  Its  effect  was  to  ren- 
der the  interior  of  the  building  nearly  dark.  Under 
cover  of  the  darkness  Ralph  left  his  seat,  slipped  into 
the  vestry  and  out  into  the  clinging  autumn  air. 

Lilith  was  instantly  conscious  of  his  absence.     To 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  21 

blot  out  Ralph  Mansfield  was  to  empty  for  her  not  only 
the  church  but  the  whole  world.  Where  had  he  gone? 
In  a  blank  and  dreary  silence  she  sought  the  answer  to 
those  two  questions.     Out  of  the  silence  they  came. 

Round  tlie  churchyard  ran  a  high,  thick  hedge. 
Close  alongside  the  hedge  ran  the  high,  brick  wall  of 
the  Rectory  garden.  Between  the  two  lay  a  narrow 
flagged  passage-way,  known  as  a  snicket  or  a  ginnel 
according  to  the  district  in  which  the  phenomenon  occurs. 
Three  upright  stones  blocked  the  entrance  to  the  narrow 
passage-way  against  wandering  cattle  of  an  exploring 
turn  of  mind,  and  the  lych-gate,  through  which  all  who 
attended  service  at  the  parish  church  must  pass  to  regain 
the  road,  stood  close  against  the  stones.  The  marshal- 
ling of  the  thirty  pupils  of  Ascham  House  through  the 
intricacies  of  the  lych-gate,  and  the  forming  of  them  up 
into  a  melancholy  queue  on  the  pavement  outside,  was 
always  a  matter  of  some  little  difficulty.  Under  Ma'm- 
selle's  gimlet  eye  and  weasel  nose  the  manoeuvre  was 
smartly  executed.  Under  Fraulein's  amiable  incompe- 
tency, confusion  was  its  inevitable  accompaniment. 
Fraulein  was  in  authority  to-day.  Enjoying  the  pleasant 
sense  of  laxity  always  accompanying  that  circumstance, 
the  girls  straggled  down  the  pathway  in  twos  and  threes, 
wrapped  in  a  woolly  blanket  of  white  fog.  A  little  knot 
of  them  gathered  under  the  gate  and  lingered  there. 

"  Young  laties,  I  beseech !  "  said  Fraulein  tragically. 

Muriel  laughed.  "  Isn't  she  like  an  old  hen  with  a 
brood  of  ducklings,"  she  said.  "  Wouldn't  it  be  funny 
to  scatter  in  the  fog!  She  could  never  find  us  again. 
O,  Lilith,  let  us !  We  could  so  easily  run  through  the 
market-place  and  get  home  before  she  did!  Wouldn't 
it  be  funny!"  

But  Lilith  did  not  answer.  A  hand  had  come  out 
of  the  fog  at  her  side  and  closed  on  hers — warm,  master- 
ful, compelling;  a  merry,  mischievous  face,  half  appre- 
hensive and  wholly  adorable,  was  close  to  her  own. 
The  hand  drew  her,  with  a  compulsion  she  could  neither 


22  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

understand  nor  resist,  away  from  Muriel  and  towards 
itself.  One  step,  and  she  was  indistinct  and  shadowy; 
two — and  she  was  lost. 

"  Now  run,"  said  the  laughing  voice,  irresistible  and 
triumphant,  and  Lilith,  obeying  laws  of  whose  very 
existence  she  was  ignorant,  laws  so  old  that  this  hoary 
old  world  always  has  and  always  will  spin  to  their 
bidding,  ran. 

But  not  far.  Suddenly  she  snatched  her  hand  from 
the  clasp,  close,  warm,  magnetic,  that  held  it,  and  shrank 
away  in  acute  distress  against  the  smooth  cherry-red 
of  the  old  garden  wall. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "where  are  we  going?" 

"  It's  only  the  rectory  garden !  "  The  narrow  pos- 
tern gate,  fitting  closely  into  its  brick-work  arch,  was 
close  against  his  hand.  He  unlocked  it  with  a  little  key 
he  carried,  and  pushed  it  invitingly  open.  "  You  know 
where  you  are  now,  don't  you!  You  have  been  there 
before,  haven't  you." 

Lilith  peeped  doubtfully  through  the  half-open  gate. 
Fog  blocked  its  vistas  and  rolled,  a  milk-white  sea,  be- 
fore her,  blotting  out  from  her  view  the  end  of  the  long 
white  house;  but  it  was  the  rectory  garden,  blessedly 
familiar.  Reassurance  dawned  in  her  eyes,  banishing 
the  moment's  terror.  Ralph  drew  her  through  the  gate 
and  locked  it  behind  her. 

"  You  know  me,  too,  don't  you,  Lilith  ? "  he  said 
softly. 

Lilith  smiled  shyly,  rosily.  So  steadily,  so  continu- 
ously, had  she  thought  of  him  since  Sunday  that  the  fact 
that  she  had  never  till  to-day  spoken  to  him  was  difficult 
to  believe.  It  seemed  an  altogether  natural  and  most 
blissful  thing  to  be  walking  at  his  side. 

And  it  was  an  enchanted  land,  full  of  the  promise  of 
all  delights,  that  she  was  walking  in.  Before  her  lay 
the  wide  lawn ;  she  could  distinguish  already  its  hoary 
sun-dial,  softly  set  in  a  wreath  of  Crina  roses,  pink  and 
white.     At  the  other  side  of  it  lay  the  Rectory;  Lady 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  23 

Nora,  who  had  evidently  been  moved,  for  some  unex- 
plained reason,  to  desire  her  presence  this  afternoon, 
and  had  taken  this  slightly  irregular  method  of  securing 
it;  his  sisters,  Agatha  and  Irene,  glasses  of  fashion  in 
which  Lilith  daily  endeavoured  to  mould  herself;  a 
drawing-room  unique  in  Lilith's  experience  among  draw- 
ing-rooms; afternoon  tea,  with  other  dazzling  possibili- 
ties, all  flavoured  with  a  subtle  superiority  over  the  rest 
of  her  fellow-pupils  at  Ascham  House.  Already  the  gable 
end  of  the  Rectory  loomed  upon  her  through  a  muffling 
milk-white  cloud  of  vapour ;  but  instead  of  going  towards 
it  Ralph  turned  sharply  to  the  right,  and  plunged  down 
a  mossy  path  that  led  through  a  thick  shrubbery.  The 
manoeuvre  scattered  Lilith's  newly  won  confidence  to 
the  winds.     Once  again  she  drew  back. 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?  "  she  asked  faintly. 

"  Won't  you  come  and  see  ?  " 

A  wave  of  unreasoning  terror  swept  over  her,  blind- 
ing her  for  the  moment  even  to  the  smiling  eyes,  bright 
with  mischievous  invitation,  boldly  holding  hers.  It 
was  not  only  the  unheard-of  thing  she  was  doing.  It 
was  a  sudden  realisation  that  she  wanted  to  do  it,  that 
she  had  neither  inclination  nor  intention  to  pluck  her 
feet  back  from  the  treading  of  doubtful  ways.  Ralph 
saw  the  terror,  but  failed  to  read  it  quite  aright. 

"  Lilith,"  he  implored,  "  don't  get  frightened  and 
spoil  everything  now!  You  can't  go  back  now,  you 
know,  not  without  being  found  out." 

It  was  the  old,  old  argument.  A  little  masculine 
persuasion,  perhaps,  a  little  masculine  fraud,  even  a 
little  masculine  force,  carefully  veiled  in  these  days  of 
delicacy  but  force  in  its  essence  all  the  same,  and  the 
Rubicon  is  behind  instead  of  in  front,  and  "  you  can't  go 
back  now,  you  know !  "  sounds  knell-like  in  a  woman's 
ears.  In  this  instance  the  Rubicon  was  neither  so  very 
wide  nor  so  very  deep,  but  certainly  Lilith  had  crossed  it. 
A  horrified  realisation  of  the  fact  shone  frostily  in  her 
eyes.     Ralph's  line  of  procedure  had  been  too  exactly 


24  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

laid  down  for  him  through  the  long  ages  of  his  evolution 
for  him  to  make  any  mistake  as  to  his  next  step.  Inevi- 
tably and  in  due  sequence  he  advanced  his  arguments. 

"What  does  it  matter?  Who  does  it  hurt  if  you 
and  I  have  just  one  heavenly  afternoon  together?  Lilith, 
I  did  so  want  to  show  it  to  you !  " 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Lilith  wondering. 

"My  studio." 

The  tragic  disappointment  in  his  boyish  face  stung. 
The  temptation  was  strong,  and  the  proposal  entirely 
innocent  Lilith  hesitated.  The  moisture  dripped  upon 
them  from-  the  heavy  boughs  above ;  the  scent  of  the  first 
dying  leaves  struck  upwards,  richly  aromatic,  from  the 
sodden  ground  below.  Suddenly  the  colour  came  back 
to  Lilith's  face  in  a  flood ;  her  lips  quivered  and  turned 
up  at  the  corners ;  her  eyes  began  to  shine.  She  laughed, 
an  odd  little  rippling  laugh. 

"I  don't  care,"  she  said.     "I'll  go." 

Once  again  they  ran  down  the  mossy  path,  through 
the  shrubbery.  It  led  into  a  cobbled  stable  yard.  Out 
of  the  milky  mist  about  them  came  the  clink  of  a  smartly 
set  down  pail,  the  muffled  stamp  of  an  impatient  hoof, 
the  occasional  swishing  of  a  restless  tail — but  no  one  to 
stay  them.  A  wide  doorway  yawned  before  them,  filled 
with  the  clean  fragrance  of  com  and  hay.  A  crazy 
staircase  invited  their  ascent. 

"  Come  along,"  said  Ralph,  bending  smiling  eyes 
upon  her  and  offering  an  inviting  hand,  and  the  two 
ch'ild-truants  from  the  stem  lessons  of  life  seized  the 
moment's  pleasure  and  dared  its  consequences. 

The  room  at  the  top  had  once  been  a  hay-loft,  but 
it  was  a  hay-loft  no  longer.  The  wall  at  the  north  gable 
end  had  been  knocked  out  and  a  high  window  filled  the 
long  room  with  a  clear  cold  light.  Before  it  stood  an 
easel,  holding  a  canvas  covered  with  a  cloth.  Breadths 
of  silken  stuff  had  been  flung  about  with  apparent  care- 
lessness, but  a  seeing  eye  had  arranged  the  alternate 
sheen  and  shadow  of  their  folds.     Bits  of  vivid  pottery 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  25 

splashed  the  place  with  colour.  Here  and  there  beaten 
brass-work  lit  up  a  shadowy  comer.  A  lay  figure,  its 
arm  bent  at  an  impossible  angle,  its  vacuous  head 
jocosely  crowned  with  a  steel  morion,  stood  on  a  mov- 
able platform,  and  the  usual  litter  of  plaster  casts  and 
charcoal  studies  encumbered  the  walls.  A  couple  of  gor- 
geous eastern  screens  closed  in  the  windowless  end  of 
the  room.  Ralph  moved  one  across  the  door,  but  he  left 
the  door  open  behind  it.  Lilith's  eyes,  wide  with  interest 
and  dark  with  pleasure,  swept  round  the  room  and  came 
back  to  his  waiting  face.  A  delicious  rosy  shyness  veiled 
her  look  and  tied  her  tongue.  Ralph  dare  hardly  speak 
lest  he  should  destroy  it  and  the  charm  of  it.  But  if 
speech  were  dangerous,  silence  was  even  more  to  be 
dreaded.  Panic  crouched  close  by,  ready  to  spring. 
Lilith  must  have  no  time  to  recognise  that  dim  shape. 
Pauses  must  be  avoided. 

"  Well,"  he  said  gaily,  "  was  it  worth  coming  to 
see?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Lilith,  her  voice  a  little  uncertain. 
"  I  am  glad  I  have  seen  it.  But  now — don't  you  think 
we  had  better  go  down  again  ?  " 

"  Go  down  again ! "  with  a  dismay  he  could  not 
hide.  "  Why,  you  have  only  just  come !  I  thought 
you  would  stay  and  have  tea  with  me !  "  and  Ralph  swept 
aside  the  second  screen,  disclosing  a  tiny  tea-table,  flower- 
decked  and  cake-laden,  on  which  a  tiny  kettle  over  its 
lamp  already  hummed  and  sang.  "  You  see,"  the  laugh 
invading  his  voice  again,  "  no  one  will  ever  guess  where 
you  are.  We  can  slip  down  again,  later  on,  and  you 
need  never  say  where  you  have  been.  When  that  thrice- 
blessed  fog  came  on  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  run 
away  with  you,  just  for  this  one  afternoon " 

"But  why ?"  with   a  lovely  blush  and  just  a 

touch  of  distress  in  her  voice.     "  I  don't — understand," 

"  Lilith,  I  had  to !  I  must,  I  simply  mtist  have  your 
face  for  my  new  picture." 

Ltlith  chilled.     It  was  not,  then,  the  pure  romance 


«6  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

she  had  dreamt,  pure  romance,  though  that  Lilith  did 
not  know,  being  one  of  the  rarest  of  finds  on  this  matter- 
of-fact  globe.  There  was  about  the  Httle  adventure 
a  touch  of  the  practical  and  utilitarian,  even  of  the  basely 
utilitarian,  since  a  picture  can  be  sold  for  money  as  well 
as  painted  for  fame.  Ralph's  motive  might  offer  a 
subtle  incense  to  her  vanity,  but  something  had  been 
stirred  in  Lilith  that  lay  deeper  than  vanity.  Suddenly 
the  game  shrank  and  the  candle  assumed  inordinate 
proportions.  She  drew  back,  her  eyes  bright  and  cold. 
Over  her  was  hovering  that  shadow  that  above  all  other 
shadows  Ralph  dreaded  at  this  juncture,  the  shadow  of 
the  proprieties.  All  at  once  the  little  face  under  the 
grey  school  hat,  soberly  twisted  with  a  ribbon  and 
adorned  with  a  quill,  the  little  figure  in  the  grey  freze 
jacket,  below  which  peeped  the  indeterminate  blue  of  her 
second-best  frock,  looked  very  small  and  very  young. 

"  I  shall  get  into  dreadful  trouble,"  she  said. 

"  So  shall  I,"  confessed  Ralph,  his  eyes  dancing  with 
an  odd  mixture  of  apprehension  and  fun,  "  if  we  are 
found  out!  But  we  shan't  be  found  out.  And  even  if 
we  are  it's  worth  it!     Don't  you  think  so,  Lilith?" 

Lilith  hesitated.  A  moment  ago  it  had  been  worth 
it,  but  now  she  doubted  it.  The  shrinking  figure,  the 
hesitating  face,  pathetically  young  and  thoroughly  fright- 
ened, were  eloquent.  Ralph  flung  a  bold  arm  about  her 
waist,  bent  his  handsome  head,  and  kissed  her. 


IV 


"  Miss  Somers,  you  are  wanted,  please,  in  the  second 
class-room."  A  small  girl  from  the  lower  school  put 
her  head  into  the  upper  school-room  very  much  as  she 
would  have  put  it  into  a  cage  of  hysenas.  "  Miss  Somers, 
please,"  she  said  again. 

Muriel  looked  up  from  her  embroidery.  She  felt  her 
lips  go  a  little  cold. 

"  She  isn't  here,"  she  answered  sharply.  "  Who  wants 
her?    What  for?" 

"  Miss  Henderson  wants  her.  It  has  something  to  do 
with  her  history  paper.  Miss  Henderson  is  waiting  for 
her  in  the  second  class-room.    She  sent  me  to  find  her." 

"  Well,  she  isn't  here." 

"  But — Miss  Henderson  told  me  to  find  her !  Where 
had  I  better  look  for  her  ?  " 

"  /  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  answered  Muriel  with  an 
excited  giggle. 

It  was  like  Lilith's  luck  that  inquiry  should  be  made 
for  her  just  now.  On  Wednesday,  after  church,  the 
rest  of  the  day  was  free.  Arrears  of  lessons  were  made 
up,  fancy  work  was  brought  out,  in  the  winter  a  little 
dancing  was  allowed.  On  nineteen  Wednesdays  out  of 
twenty  Lilith  might  have  been  absent  from  her  place  with 
impunity.  The  first  time  she  actually  was  absent  Miss 
Henderson  must  send  for  her !    It  was  like  Lilith's  luck. 

But  it  was  better,  Muriel  told  herself,  that  Miss 
Henderson  should  want  her  than  Ma'mselle.  In  ten  min- 
utes the  half-past  four  tea  would  ring  and  Miss  Hender- 
son certainly  obey  its  summons,  whereas  neither  tea  bell 
nor  anything  else  would  have  thrown  Ma'mselle  off  the 
track  of  a  recalcitrant  pupil.    If  that  ten  minutes  passed 

over  uneventfully 

«7 


28  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Ten  minutes,  twelve,  fourteen.  Muriel  sat  and 
trembled,  the  tea  bell  was  late.  With  its  first  tinkle  the 
school-room  door  opened  and  a  pleasant-faced  English- 
woman in  her  early  thirties  walked  up  to  her. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  no  one  can  find  Lilith  Somers- 
Do  you  know  where  she  is  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Muriel. 

The  reply  was  curt,  almost  rude.  The  governess 
looked  sharply  at  her.  But  the  next  moment  her  expres- 
sion changed.  Pure  fright  was  responsible  for  Muriel's 
tone — and  Muriel  was  by  no  means  easily  frightened. 
Miss  Henderson's  voice  altered. 

"  Muriel,"  she  said,  "  you  must  answer  me  one  or 
two  questions — and  answer  them  truthfully.  I  have 
reason  to  believe  Lilith  is  not  in  the  house.  Do  you  know 
where  she  is  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Have  you  seen  her  since  you  came  in  from  church  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Did  she  walk  home  from  church  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Muriel  again. 

"  Then  where  is  she  ?  "  asked  the  governess  blankly, 
and  this  time  Muriel  said  nothing. 

"  And  you  told  no  one  she  did  not  walk  home  with 
you?" 

Muriel  moved  uneasily. 

"  We — we  don't  always  come  straight  home  from 
church  when  Fraulein  is  with  us,"  she  said. 

"  I  wouldn't  tell  Miss  Salter  that  unless  you  are  asked 
— for  Fraulein's  sake,"  advised  Miss  Henderson  quietly. 
"  But  Ma'mselle  was  with  you  also." 

"  Ma'mselle  does  not  bother — if  it  isn't  her  day." 

"  And  you  really  don't  know  where  Lilith  is  ?  " 

"No,  Miss  Henderson." 

"  Then  I  must  tell  Miss  Salter — at  once." 

Muriel  started. 

"  Oh,  please,  if  you  wouldn't  do  that ! "  she  said 
impulsively.    "  Lilith  won't  be  long.    She  is  coming  back 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  29 

— at  least," — as  staggering  possibilities  leapt  at  her, — 
"  I  think  she  is." 

"  Muriel,"  said  Miss  Henderson  severely,  "  I  believe, 
if  you  chose,  you  could  tell  me  where  Lilith  is." 

Muriel's  face  suddenly  emptied  itself  of  all  expres- 
sion. She  knew  nothing.  With  what  she  suspected  no 
one  had  anything  to  do. 

"  I  must  tell  Miss  Salter,"  said  the  head  governess 
again. 

She  found  an  audience  of  three  awaiting  her  in  the 
smaller  dining-room  where  Miss  Salter  and  her  gov- 
iernesses  took  tea  alone  on  a  Wednesday  afternoon.  Miss 
Salter  listened  to  her  tale  in  a  sour  and  bilious  silence. 
Fraulein  listened  in  tearful  and  bewildered  helplessness. 
Ma'mselle  listened,  all  the  sharp  lines  of  her  face  gather- 
ing themselves  together  and  following  the  leading  of 
the  sharp  nose  unerringly  scenting  depravity.  Suddenly 
she  interrupted  the  recital  with  a  little  scream. 

"  It  is  zat  man,"  she  said. 


It  was  getting  too  dark  to  paint  now,  even  in  the  old 
hayloft  with  the  big  north  light.  The  fog  had  proved 
itself  a  fellow-conspirator,  and  had  rolled  away  as  sud- 
denly as  it  had  come.  The  tir/ie  had  not  been  long,  but 
Mansfield  had  made  excellent  use  of  the  time  he  had  had. 
Even  as  an  artist  comparing  his  achievement  with  his 
dream  he  acknowledged  that.  Lilith  remained  as  he  had 
posed  her,  half-reclining,  one  elbow  resting  on  the  tawny 
lion-skin  he  had  flung  across  the  sofa  end,  her  little  round 
chin  resting  on  the  back  of  her  hand  and  her  eyes, 
lightening  and  darkening  with  every  passing  emotion, 
resting  on  his  face.  From  the  moment  she  had  stood 
arrested,  rigid,  her  whole  identity  fused  into  something 
new  and  strange  by  the  glow  of  his  kiss,  she  had  been 
plastic  as  wax  in  his  hands.  Mansfield  himself  did  not 
understand  quite  what  he  had  done.  On  his  part  that 
kiss  had  been  an  experiment,  deliberately  calculated  to 
achieve  results  indispensable  to  his  plan ;  none  the  less  an 
experiment  that  it  had  been  sharply  pointed  with  tempta- 
tion by  the  exquisite  and  innocent  lips  close  to  his  own. 
He  had  been  undeniably  startled  and  just  a  little  dis- 
mayed at  the  result.  The  thrill  and  glow  of  that  amazing 
moment  seemed  to  illuminate  her  whole  personality.  He 
was  conscious,  too,  of  an  almost  unwelcome  authority. 
There  had  been  something  pathetic  in  her  unquestioning 
obedience  to  his  suggestion  that  as  she  was  going  to 
"  stay  tea  "  with  him  she  had  better  take  off  her  hat  and 
jacket.  He  was  aware  of  a  stab  of  swift  compunction 
at  the  breathless  negative  with  which  she  answered  his 
smiling  "  You  don't  mind,  do  you  ?  "  when  he  had  asked 
if  he  might  alter  the  arrangement  of  her  hair.  Some- 
thing very  like  remorse  stirred  in  him  as  he  felt  her 
30 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  31 

tremble  under  the  light  deft  touch  of  his  fingers,  when 
he  saw  her  flush  at  the  admiration,  which  yet  had  some- 
thing coldly  critical  behind  it,  in  his  eyes.  "  Jove,  it 
was  just  a  little  too  bad,"  he  told  himself,  but  it  was 
only  the  momentary  repentance  of  the  exultant  male 
vaguely  aware  that  his  triumph  is  cruel.  He  told  him- 
self the  next  instant  that  he  had  nothing  with  which  to 
reproach  himself,  and  made  tea  and  cut  bread-and-butter 
far  more  skilfully  than  Lilith  could  have  done. 

Lilith  drank  her  tea  feverishly,  but  something  had 
stolen  away  the  schoolgirl  appetite  he  had  so  confidently 
anticipated.  Othellos  and  Desdemonas,  luscious  in  choc- 
olate and  lemon  cream,  invited  her  in  vain,  the  richest 
and  most  indigestible  of  Genoa  bristling  with  almonds 
appealed  uselessly  to  her  eye.  Precious  time,  Ralph 
realised,  was  being  absolutely  wasted.  Suddenly  he  had 
caught  up  a  filmy  length  of  something  white  and  deftly 
veiled  her  head  and  shoulders  with  it,  took  a  spray  or 
two  of  deutzia  from  a  long-necked  water-jar  in  the 
corner  and  put  it  in  her  hand,  flung  the  tawny  lion-skin 
across  the  sofa-end  and  patted  it  invitingly.  "  Put  your 
elbow  here,"  he  had  said  in  a  laughing  whisper,  "  and 
think  how  much  you  love  me." 

The  radiance  of  her  look  fairly  startled  him.  It  was 
all  he  could  do  to  avoid  dropping  palette  and  brushes  and 
kissing  her  again.  Early  girlhood  is  rarely  lovely,  being 
generally  a  matter  of  unequal  development  and  many 
angles,  marred  by  colour  in  the  wrong  place.  But  when 
early  girlhood  is  lovely  there  is  a  freshness  and  charm 
about  it  exquisite  indeed.  At  this  moment  all  about 
Lilith  was  lovely  and  every  possibility  good.  Life  lay 
a  fair  and  open  page,  on  which  Mansfield  might  have 
written  almost  what  he  chose.  Her  physical  beauty  was 
undeniable.  Had  he  so  willed  it  the  undeveloped  soul 
gazing  dumbly  at  him  through  her  eyes  had  been  beau- 
tiful also.  Had  he  chosen.  For  one  bewildering  moment 
he  realised  his  power.  The  next  he  had  flung  it  away 
— and  Lilith  with  it. 


dJS  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"It's  only  for  to-day,"  he  told  himself.  "After 
to-day  I  need  never  see  the  child  any  more.  And  she 
is  only  a  child,  she  will  soon  forget." 

That  was  an  hour  ago.  All  that  hour  Lilith  had  kept 
the  pose  into  which  she  had  first  fallen,  unconscious  of 
time  or  fatigue,  simply  content  to  adore,  subtly  sufficed 
by  that  realisation,  the  satisfaction  of  which  centuries  of 
uplifting  into  equality  has  not  refined  away,  the  sense  of 
being  the  willing  channel  of  a  man's  pleasure.  It  was 
only  when  he  flung  down  his  brush  with  the  disappointed 
exclamation,  "  I  can't  see  any  longer.  Aren't  you  tired, 
Lilith  ?  "  she  realised  that  her  whole  frame  was  stiff. 

"  I — I  didn't  know,"  she  said  softly.  He  noticed  that 
she  changed  her  position  with  some  difficulty.  Once 
again  it  gave  him  a  sense  of  half-irritated  shame.  He 
drew  a  chair  up  to  the  tiny  tea-table,  pushed  a  clear  place 
among  the  plates  and  cups,  put  his  elbows  on  the  table 
and  his  chin  on  his  hands  and  studied  her,  a  touch  of 
laughing  compunction  in  his  eyes.  Lilith  smiled  shyly 
back. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  my  head  ?  "  she 
asked. 

Another  question  was  faintly  stirring  the  depths  of 
Ralph's  sub-consciousness.  What  was  he  going  to  do 
with  her  heart?  Every  earthly  pleasure,  he  had  been  told 
ad  nauseam  since  babyhood,  had  bitterness  for  its  dregs. 
This  had  been  a  successful,  an  altogether-too-successful 
afternoon,  but  the  bitterness  of  its  dregs  was  very  notice- 
able just  now.  In  the  first  place  the  child  before  him 
must  be  safely  restored  to  her  natural  guardians,  and 
that,  if  possible,  without  their  ever  discovering  the  exist- 
ing gap  in  their  guardianship.  How  was  it  to  be  done? 
For  the  moment  his  airy  confidence  in  chance  had 
deserted  him.  He  did  not  quite  see  how  it  was  going  to 
be  done.  The  thing  had  gone  further,  much  further, 
than  he  had  intended  it  to  go.  Every  lovely  look  the  child 
gave  him,  sitting  there  pale  and  shaken  and  dreadfully 
content  to  stay  with  him  as  long  as  ever  he  wished,  told 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  33 

him  so  again.  The  fact  was  beginning  to  make  him  dis- 
tinctly uncomfortable,  and  Ralph  hated  to  be  uncom- 
fortable. He  crushed  his  vague  uneasiness  out  of  sight 
and  grasped  desperately  after  the  triumphant  delight  he 
had  been  so  conscious  of  a  moment  ago.  A  glance  at 
the  delicate  head  on  the  canvas  behind  helped  to  remind 
him  of  his  motives,  abundantly  justified,  of  his  ambitions, 
royally  fulfilled.  He  smiled  at  her  across  the  little  table, 
smiled  with  all  his  old  gaiety  and  charm.  The  sweetness 
of  the  moment  came  back  and  its  bitterness  receded.  He 
had  done  what  he  had  intended  to  do,  that  was  the  great 
thing.  That  he  had  done  a  little  more  he  was  contented 
for  the  moment  to  forget.  It  was  only  right  that  Lilith, 
on  whom  had  depended  their  fulfilment,  should  hear  his 
dreams.  He  would  tell  her  what  he  was  going  to  do 
with  her  head. 

So  Ralph  talked,  talked  until  his  own  egregious  vanity, 
softly  sunning  itself  in  the  light  of  a  child's  adoring  eyes, 
was  clear  even  to  himself.    He  broke  off,  flushing. 

"  I'm  a  brute,"  he  said  with  conviction,  "  and  you're 
a  darling.    Aren't  you,  Lilith  ?  " 

Lilith  looked  at  him  and  said  nothing.  She  had  a 
half-uneasy  sense  that  he  had  suddenly  come  down  to 
her  level,  yet  it  was  sweet  to  be  told  that  she  was  a 
darling,  presumably  his.  No  one  had  ever  found  her  a 
darling  before.  To  her  mother  she  was  a  responsibility, 
to  her  sisters  a  nuisance,  to  Miss  Salter  and  her  govern- 
esses a  source  of  income,  to  her  school-fellows  a  never- 
failing  fount  of  rich  entertainment.  But  to  Ralph  she 
was  a  darling.  There  was  a  delicious  shy  gentleness  born 
of  her  desire  to  live  up  to  her  new  character  in  her 
voice  when  she  spoke. 

"  I — I  don't  think  I'm  always  a  darling.  I — I'm  not 
a  good  girl  at  all." 

Ralph's  eyes  twinkled.     He  kept  his  mouth  in  lines 

of  gravity  with  difficulty.    It  was,  on  the  whole,  a  matter 

of  indifference  to  him  whether  Lilith  were  a  good  girl 

or  a  bad  one,  but  he  was  a  kindly  fellow,  and  something 

3 


34  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

in  the  spontaneity  of  the  confession  touched  him.  The 
conversation  seemed  worth  continuing  along  its  present 
lines.  A  )^oung  girl's  personality  was  to  him  terra  incog- 
nita indeed.  He  was  conscious  suddenly  of  the  zest  of  the 
explorer. 

"  But  you  would  like  to  be  a  good  girl,  wouldn't 
you?" 

For  a  moment  Lilith  pondered  the  question,  knitting 
her  delicate  brows  and  pressing  her  pretty  lips  firmly 
together.  She  reached  a  conclusion  for  which  Ralph 
was  by  no  means  prepared. 

"  No,"  she  said  deliberately,  "  I  don't  think  I  should. 
I  don't  think  I  want  to  be  good  at  all.  It  would  be  much 
nicer  to  be  wicked.  Wicked  people  are  much  happier 
than  good  ones;  they  have  a  better  time  altogether,  it 
seems  to  me.  I  never  say  my  prayers  " — the  burning 
rush  of  shamed  blushes  that  followed  the  desperate 
acknowledgment  brought  the  tears  into  her  eyes.  Whence 
came  the  impulse  towards  such  painful  sincerity  Lilith 
could  not  have  told,  but  it  was  there  and  unescapable. 
"  I  can't  bear  to  ask  God  to  make  me  a  good  girl  when  I 
don't  want  to  be  good  at  all.  I  can't  bear  good  people. 
They  are  all  horrid  I  " 


VI 


Ralph  stared.  His  discoveries  as  an  explorer  were 
already  unexpectedly  remunerative.  He  had  picked  up 
his  first  jewel  at  the  very  entrance  to  his  undiscovered 
country — an  absolute  honesty.  Instinct  told  him  it  was 
a  rare  one — but  on  the  whole  he  would  rather  have  been 
without  it.  Desperately  he  ranged  himself  on  the  side  of 
a  safe  convention.  Whether  it  was  also  on  the  side  of  the 
angels  he  was  not  quite  clear. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said — he  was  conscious  of  a  hysterical 
little  shake  under  his  waistcoat  at  the  grandmotherly 
form  of  his  address,  but  he  used  it  all  the  same — "  I 
don't  think  you  can  justly  say  that.  My  mother,  Lilith — 
Good  God,  child,  what  would  a  man  be  without  his 
mother.  And  to  think  of  a  bad  mother!  Do  you  know 
I  couldn't  tell  you  what  I  think  of  the  man  who  marries 

a  bad  woman — makes  her "     "  The  mother  of  his 

children  "  was  on  his  lips,  but  he  checked  himself  just 
in  time.  Into  what  amazing  places  was  a  first  effort  after 
honesty  in  conversation  leading  him — and  with  a  school- 
girl of  sixteen!  He  wrenched  things  back  into  safer 
channels.  "  If  you  want  a  man,  even  a  bad  man,  to  really 
love  you,  Lilith,  you  must  be  a  good  woman,"  he  said. 

Lilith  listened,  her  lips  parting  slightly,  her  colour 
fading.  Suddenly,  with  an  outward  gesture  of  her  hands, 
a  beautiful  swaying  of  all  her  light  body,  she  moved 
towards  him. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  her  voice  falling  into  the  softest 
cadence  it  had  ever  been  his  good  fortune  to  hear,  "  I 
would  be  a  good  woman,  the  best  woman  the  world  ever 
saw,  if  you  wanted  me  to !  " 

Ralph  gasped.  This  was  a  reversal  of  the  ordinary 
position  with  a  vengeance.     So  long  has  the  masculine 

35 


36  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

half  of  humanity  regarded  it  as  the  duty  of  the  feminine 
half  to  drag  it,  inert  and  unwilling,  a  little  further  and 
yet  a  little  further  up  the  lower  slopes  of  ethical  morality, 
that  to  find  himself  suddenly  upon  the  higher  levels  and 
asked  to  do  a  little  painful  raising  in  his  turn  nonplussed 
him  completely.  He  put  his  elbows  on  the  tea-table 
again,  and  brought  a  flushed  and  serious  face  a  little 
closer  to  his  companion's. 

"  Lilith,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  think  you  see  things — 
quite  right,  dear.  We — men,  I  mean — are  a  bad  lot. 
Some  are  worse  than  others,  but,  take  us  altogether — 
we  are  a  bad  lot.  And  we  look  to  our  women  to  make 
us  better.  Every  good  man  in  the  world  owes  his  good- 
ness to  a  woman  somewhere,  that's  my  firm  belief."  His 
own  words  sent  a  shock  of  amazement  through  him.  Of 
all  the  conversations  he  might  have  imagined  beforehand, 
never  could  he  have  dreamt  of  one  like  this.  And  there 
was  a  laugh  somewhere  at  the  back  of  his  consciousness, 
a  laugh  he  shunned  at  this  moment  with  far  more  horror 
than  he  would  have  shunned  the  actual  and  personal  devil 
who,  according  to  his  father's  teaching,  was  directly 
responsible  for  it.  "  There  isn't  one  of  us,  not  even  the 
worst,  who  hasn't  got  a  shred  of  respect  for  a  woman's 
goodness  somewhere  about  him.  But  if  the  women  are 
not  going  to  care  to  be  good  any  longer — why,  what  are 
we  going  to  do!  Humanity  will  go  to  the  dogs 
altogether." 

It  was  a  depressing  conclusion  to  reach,  and  it  laid 
upon  Lilith  a  sense  of  undivided  responsibility  at  which 
her  soul  revolted.  For  the  heart  of  the  healthy  maiden 
is  an  alabaster  box  full  of  ointment  of  spikenard,  very 
costly.  She  goes  through  the  world  seeking  feet  worthy 
enough  to  be  with  it  anointed.  Her  natural  attitude  is 
upon  her  knees ;  her  only  quest  the  idol  she  may  worthily 
M^orship,  The  role  of  sick  nurse  to  a  man's  sorry  soul  is 
not  one  that  she  would  choose.  It  by  no  means  appealed 
to  Lilith. 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  have  to  believe  you,"  she  said 
softly. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  37 

"  You  will  have  to  in  time ! "  in  gloomy  prophecy. 

Lihth's  eyes  chilled.  Would  she  be  forced  to  it — 
the  undesired  altitude,  the  horrid  pedestal ! — in  the  end  ? 
It  might  be.  In  the  meantime  there  was  he !  in  tri- 
umphant refutation  of  his  own  teaching.  A  sudden 
radiance  dawned  in  her  look.  His  soul,  conscious  of  a 
vague  but  deep  unworthiness,  trembled  and  sickened 
before  it.  The  horrid  pedestal  was  not  for  him  either. 
With  haste  and  dismay  he  hurried  back  into  the  regions 
of  every  day,  and  dragged  Lilith  with  him. 

"  We  must  manage  to  be  up  here  together  again 
somehow,  Lilith,"  he  told  her.  "  If  everything  goes  right 
this  afternoon,  I  don't  see  why  we  shouldn't,  do  you?  I 
have  made  a  good  start,  but  it  is  only  a  start.  What  about 
that  sale  of  needlework  affair  that  is  coming  off  next 
week?  You'll  be  here  among  the  crowd,  won't  you? 
Couldn't  we  manage  to  slip  away  and  get  another  hour 
to  ourselves  then?  Surely  among  thirty  girls  one 
wouldn't  be  missed.  Let  us  settle  now,  whilst  we  have 
the  chance." 

A  sound  stayed  him,  the  creaking  of  the  crazy  stair 
under  an  uncertain  foot. 

"  Ralph,"  said  a  well-known  voice  with  a  strong  note 
of  dismay  in  it ;  "  Ralph,  is  that  you  ?  " 

The  foot  had  ceased  to  ascend  the  stairs.  The  abso- 
lute stillness  of  the  newcomer  suggested  an  intense 
listening.  Did  it  also  suggest  an  opportunity,  a  delib- 
erately afforded  opportunity?  Lilith  sprang  to  her  feet, 
desperate  intentions  lying  unmistakably  in  her  eyes. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Ralph  in  a  sharp  whisper.  "  You 
mustn't  hide,  -whatever  happens.  Sit  still;  it's  all  you 
can  do."  _ 

"But "   breathed  Lilith.  "^ 

"  She  is  coming  up  ?  Yes,  I  know ;  we  can't  help 
that.    We  must  just  face  it.    We  must,  Lilith." 

"  Ralph,"  said  the  voice,  and  the  stairs  creaked  again, 
"  to  whom  are  you  talking?  " 

A  sudden  devil-may-care  laugh  flashed  into  Ralph's 


38  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

blue  eyes.  For  the  moment  he  was  incapable  of  seeing 
anything  but  the  fun  of  the  situation. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  come  up  and  see,  mother  ?  "  he 
said,  and  the  next  moment  Lady  Nora,  her  grey  silk 
skirts  wrapped  closely  about  her  slender  spareness,  her 
blue  eyes  flashing  behind  the  gold  pince-nez  that  bestrid 
the  thin  bridge  of  her  nose,  was  amazedly  taking  in  details 
— the  tea-table,  the  sketch  upon  the  easel,  the  pretty  child 
on  the  sofa,  her  pale  lips  parted  and  her  eyes  dark  with 
terror,  the  filmy  wrap,  all  forgotten,  still  draped  about 
her  ruffled  head. 

"  Well,"  said  Lady  Nora,  "  they  told  me— but  I  didn't 
believe  it.    I  never  would  have  believed  that  any  girl " 

There  was  something  withering  in  his  mother's  glance, 
Ralph  moved  swiftly,  interposing  himself  between  it  and 
the  little  figure  sitting  rigid  and  dumb  on  the  sofa. 

"  It  was  my  fault,"  he  said  quickly.  "  Entirely  and 
altogether.  I  am  as  much  to  blame  as  ever  you  choose — 
but  she  isn't.  She  couldn't  help  herself — as  things  were. 
If  you  had  seen  for  yourself " 

"  Help  herself !  She  couldn't  help  staying  here  with 
you  for  nearly  three  hours !  Ralph,  you  may  be  unscrupu- 
lous— ^but  you  needn't  be  ridiculous.  She  must  have 
been  willing,  more  than  willing " 

"  I  was  willing — more  than  willing."  Lilith  had  risen. 
She  laid  one  hand  on  the  tawny  lion-skin  for  she  trembled 
exceedingly,  but  she  faced  her  censor  without  flinching. 
"  I  was  willing  to  come — and  I  was  willing  to  stay.  I 
don't  see  that  I  have  done  anything  so  very  wrong  in 
either  coming — or  staying;  but  if  I  have,  it  is  as  much 
my  fault  as  Mr.  Mansfield's." 

Lady  Mansfield's  rapid  glance  went  from  one  to  the 
other.  There  was  a  tremor,  bravely  repressed,  in  the 
girlish  voice  that  had  slid  insidiously  through  the  joints 
in  her  armour  of  conventionality  and  found  the  heart 
beneath, 

"  What  did  you  do  it  for  ?  "  she  inquired  helplessly. 

With  a  quick  movement  of  his  head  Ralph  indicated 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  39 

the  half-finished  portrait  on  the  easel.  It  was  his  all- 
sufficient  justification. 

"  Did  she  know  ?  "  asked  his  mother. 

"  No,"  said  Lilith  rapidly.  "  I  knew  that  Mr.  Mans- 
field wanted  me,  and  that  was  all.  I  didn't  ask  why;  I 
didn't  care.    I  was  glad  to  come." 

But  sometimes  Lady  Nora  could  be  that  rarest  of 
things  feminine,  a  woman  of  true  insight.  Suddenly  she 
understood. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said  a  little  grimly,  "  I  can't  say 
I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  Take  that  fantastic  thing  off  your 
head,  and  put  your  hat  and  jacket  on.  And  don't  look  so 
frightened,  child.  I'm  not  going  to  scold  you.  All  I 
have  to  say  I  will  say  to  my  son — afterwards." 

"  Anything  you  may  have  to  say,  mother,  I  am  quite 
ready  to  hear — afterwards." 

There  was  a  note  of  warning  in  Ralph's  voice.  His 
mother  flashed  an  indignant  look  at  him. 

"  Come  outside,"  she  said ;  "  I  want  to  speak  to  you. 
Lilith,  my  dear,"  with  a  gentleness  she  would  not  have 
imagined  possible  two  minutes  ago,  "  make  haste. 
Ralph,"  as  they  gained  the  staircase,  dimly  lit  now  by  a 
stable  lantern,  "  Miss  Salter  has  come  for  her.  The 
creature  is  suggesting — all  sorts  of  things.  I  told  her, 
I've  told  her  over  and  over  again,  that  you  are  not  that 
sort  of  a  man  at  all — and  she  only  sniffs  and  wipes  an 
imaginary  tear  out  of  a  stony  eye.  The  woman  is  a 
perfect  ghoul,  a  she-gorgon " 

"  I  thought  gorgons  were  always  shes,"  put  in  Ralph. 

"  And  it's  like  you,"  with  passionate  irritation,  "  to 
pick  up  a  point  like  that  now.  What  am  I  to  say  to  her  ? 
What  am  I  to  do,  Ralph  ?    It  is  more  than  I  know." 

"  You  needn't  do  anything — ^and  as  for  the  saying, 
leave  it  to  me." 

"  But  you  are  not  coming?  " 

"  I !  Not  coming.  Did  you  really  imagine  I  would 
leave  the  child  in  there  to  face  the  she-gorgon  alone ! 
What  do  you  think  of  me,  mother !  " 


40  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  I  don't  know  wJiat  to  think  of  you — and  that's  the 
truth."  Lady  Nora  pressed  trembling  hands  together 
and  began  to  cry  a  httle.  "  But  I'm  quite  sure  of  one 
thing,  and  that  is  that  the  child  in  there  will  get  through 
what  is  before  her  better  without  your  assistance.  You 
needn't  pile  insult  upon  injury  by  showing  yourself." 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  why  I  shouldn't  show  myself," 
and  lady  though  his  mother  was,  product  of  centuries  of 
self-restraint  and  courtly  training,  she  could  have  struck 
him  for  the  twinkle  in  his  eye  as  he  said  it.  "  I  have  had 
an  idyllic  afternoon,  with  all  the  seraphs  in  Paradise — 
and  one  out! — for  guests,  and  if  you  think  I'm  ashamed 
to  show  myself " 

"  Hush !  "  said  his  mother,  "  here  she  is  !  " 

Ralph  turned.  Lilith,  very  pale,  looking  in  some 
inexplicable  fashion  taller,  older  than  she  had  five  minutes 
ago,  had  glided  to  his  side.  There  was  something  rapt, 
almost  exalted,  something  of  the  willing  victim  led  forth 
to  sacrifice  in  her  whole  mien  and  aspect.  It  brought  a 
lump  into  his  throat. 

"  Come  along,"  he  whispered,  catching  the  hand  that 
hung  cold  and  limp  at  her  side  in  his  strong,  warm, 
reassuring  fingers.  "  We're  in  for  a  most  awful  wigging ; 
but  never  mind,  Lilith;  I'll  see  you  through." 


VII 


Up  the  long  drawing-room  went  the  little  procession 
of  three,  Lady  Nora  first;  Lilith,  conscious  of  a  kind  of 
unwilling  protection  in  her  ladyship's  attitude,  close 
behind;  Ralph,  in  spite  of  his  sense  of  intolerable 
awkwardness  strongly  inclined  to  laugh,  bringing  up  the 
rear.  Lilith,  after  her  first  mental  acceptance  of  the 
grim  dark  figure  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  found 
herself  absently  interested  in  trifles,  in  the  soft  pleasant 
rustle  of  Lady  Nora's  dress,  in  the  vivid  colour  contrasts 
of  a  piece  of  Hungarian  embroidery  flung  upon  a  table 
near.  No  one  said  anything,  nothing  occurred,  even  to 
Lady  Nora,  that  could  be  said.  Lilith's  fascinated  eyes 
rested,  much  as  the  eyes  of  the  doomed  rabbit  in  the  Zoo 
rest  on  the  hungry  boa-constrictor,  on  the  long  sallow 
face  and  basilisk  eyes,  the  gaunt  frame  and  severely  cut 
garments  of  the  woman  who  stood  to  her  in  loco  parentis. 
The  silence  was  becoming  a  nightmare,  even  Ralph  could 
think  of  nothing  to  say.    It  was  Miss  Salter  who  spoke. 

*'  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  take  her  back,"  she  said. 

Lilith  started.  What  was  this?  What  vague  and 
awful  thing  had  happened  to  plant  in  Miss  Salter's  turgid 
mind  a  doubt  as  to  her  being  taken  back  ?  She  felt  rather 
than  saw  the  little  tremor  that  ran  down  Lady  Nora's 
silken  back. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  in  distressful  hurry,  "  I  think  you 
are  too  severe  altogether.  That  you  are  putting  a  ter- 
rible, an  unwarrantable  construction  on  a  boy-and-girl 
indiscretion." 

Miss  Salter  turned  a  hard  and  glassy  eye  on  the 
handsome  wolf  that  had  ravaged  her  fold. 

"  Do  you  call  him  a  boy  ?  "  she  asked,  and  the  sullen 
monotony  of  her  tone  paralysed  her  ladyship's   reply. 

41 


42  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Suddenly  the  schoolmistress  seized  with  both  hands  the 
two  bunches  of  iron-grey  curls  that  danced  and  sprang 
outside  her  purple  bonnet  strings,  and  by  them  slowly 
dragged  her  large  head  from  side  to  side  on  her  massive 
shoulders.  It  was  a  gruesome  and  awe-inspiring  per- 
formance.   The  three  watched  it  with  fascinated  eyes. 

"  The  odium !  The  disgrace,"  she  said  with  a  deep, 
dry,  masculine  sob.  "  It  means  ruin  to  me,  absolute  ruin. 
But  none  of  you  care  for  that !    Not  one  of  you." 

"  Oh,"  said  Lady  Nora  again,  and  tears  were  in  her 
voice  now,  "  surely  you  take  too  dark  a  view  of  every- 
thing. There  need  be  no  odium!  There  can  be  no 
disgrace." 

"  No  disgrace !  "  The  deep-toned  demur  rolled  round 
the  room,  the  Venetian  vases  on  her  ladyship's  writing- 
table  thrilled  and  rang  under  its  note.  "  When  I  have  to 
admit  within  my  door,  to  take  under  my  roof  again 
that " 

Ralph  stepped  quickly  forward. 

"  May  I  ask  you  to  address  yourself  to  me,"  he  said. 
"  In  all  that  has  happened  I,  and  I  only,  am  to  blame. 
I  take  all  the  responsibility  and  all  the — odium.  I  accept 
all  the  consequences " 

"  Oh,"  said  his  mother  from  behind  in  an  exasperated 
whisper,  "  it  is  so  easy  for  a  man  to  say  that — and  so 
impossible  for  him  to  do  it.  Miss  Salter,  surely,  surely, 
there  is  no  need  to  make  a  tragedy  of  an  afternoon's 
folly."  Protest,  she  could  read  it  in  that  mask-like  face, 
was  useless,  but  protest  she  must  all  the  same.  "  Ralph 
has  behaved  disgracefully.  His  father,  I  know,  when  he 
hears  about  it,  will  insist  upon  his  leaving  home  once 
again."  Her  ladyship's  voice  broke,  she  also  must  suffer 
for  her  boy's  folly — "  and  Lilith  has  been  a  very  naughty 
girl.  But  when  you  have  said  that  you  have  said  all.  And 
if  they  promise,  both  of  them,  that  they  will  never,  never 
do  it  again." 

Lilith's  eyes  swept  upwards  to  Ralph's  with  a  quick 
question  in  them.     It  was  answered  instantly.     In  his 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  43 

blazed  a  moment's  blank  dismay.  His  unfinished  sketch ! 
His  dreamt-of  picture!  Such  a  promise  would  ruin 
everything.  Lilith's  outstretched  spiritual  tentacles 
dropped  back  upon  themselves,  her  whole  personality 
settled  down  into  the  quiet  obstinacy  that  was  the  bed- 
rock of  her  disposition. 

"  You  will,  my  dear,  won't  you  ?  "  begged  her  lady- 
ship. "  Now  you  see  how  seriously  people  regard  what 
you  have  done,  I  am  sure,  quite  innocently!  Now  you 
understand  how  grave  are  the  consequences  that  may 
follow  a  moment's  thoughtlessness." 

The  hopefulness  died  out  of  the  kind  constraining 
of  her  ladyship's  voice.  In  Lilith's  face  she  read  an 
inexplicable  but  quite  evident  refusal.  Imprisonment, 
torture,  the  stake,  at  that  moment  Lilith  would  have 
faced  all  rather  than  promise.  Her  ladyship  turned  to 
her  son. 

"  Ralph,"  she  said  desperately,  "  you  promise.  Give 
me  your  word  of  honour  here  and  now  that  this  shall 
not  happen  again.  That  you  will  not  attempt  in  any  way 
to  communicate " 

Her  voice  faltered  and  trailed  off  into  a  dismayed 
silence.    Ralph  would  not  promise,  either. 

"  You  see,"  said  Miss  Salter  with  a  satisfaction  that 
brought  the  word  "  ghoul "  once  again  to  her  ladyship's 
mind.  "  What  does  that  mean  ?  What  do  you  think 
now  of  what  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Mean ! "  echoed  Lady  Nora  with  intense  irritation. 
"  What  should  it  mean  ?  It  means  nothing — ^but  that 
they  both  want  whipping !  " — and  but  yesterday  it  seemed 
to  her  ladyship  that  satisfactory  solution  of  the  difficulty 
would  have  been  possible  as  far  as  Ralph  was  concerned. 
"  Lilith,  my  dear,  you  don't  understand.  You  must 
promise ! " 

Once  again  Lilith's  eyes  sought  counsel  of  Ralph's 
face,  and  read  unerringly  what  she  found  there,  the 
fear  lest  the  momentous  issues  to  be  decided  for  her 
should  overweigh,  in  her  mind,  the  prospects  of  his  pic- 


44  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

ture.  He  might  have  spared  himself  that  acutely  selfish 
tremor.  Lilith  breathed  but  at  his  bidding.  Her  eyes, 
steady  and  defiant,  came  back  to  Miss  Salter's  sourly 
waiting  face.    The  schoolmistress  rose. 

"  I  know  her,"  she  said  slowly.  "  I  know  her — 
when  she  looks  like  that !    I'll  take  her  home — in  a  cab." 

"  In  a  cab !  "  Lilith's  voice  came  breathless  and 
quick ;  it  was  the  first  time  she  had  spoken.  "  It  isn't 
far.    I  can  walk." 

"  I'll  have  a  cab !  "  The  schoolmistress's  voice  broke 
on  a  deep  and  masculine  sob.  *'  I  wouldn't  have  anyone 
see  her." 

"See  me!"  Lilith  quivered  all  over  with  a  dreadful 
indignation,  the  more  intolerable  that  she  was  only 
vaguely  aware  of  its  source.  "  See  me !  Why  shouldn't 
people  see  me  ?    I  have  done  nothing  wrong !  " 

"  Nothing  wrong !  " 

"  She  has  done  nothing  wrong — in  your  sense  of  the 
word.  I  don't  know  how  you  dare  sit  there  and  suggest 
such  a  thing,"  said  Ralph  in  a  furious  undertone. 

"  Go  away,"  said  the  schoolmistress  with  a  little  flap 
of  her  black-gloved  hands  and  a  steadily  averted  face, 
as  though  some  noxious  beast  that  moved  her  to  disgust 
rather  than  fear  had  ventured  to  address  her.  "  Do  you 
think  I  want  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say !  " 

"  No,"  returned  Ralph  passionately,  "  but  you  shall 
hear  it  all  the  same.  What  are  you  wicked  enough  to 
imagine?    Lunatic  enough  to  think?  " 

"  Ralph !  Ralph ! "  said  his  mother  in  desperation, 
seizing  his  rigid  arm  from  behind,  "  for  pity's  sake  be 
quiet.  It's  you  that  are  the  lunatic !  Don't  you  see  you 
are  making  things  worse  with  every  word  you  say? 
Order  the  brougham," — and  her  ladyship  rang  an  agi- 
tated peal, — "  and  let  us  get  the  woman  away." 

"  And  Lilith !  " 

"  The  child  must  go,  too,  of  course  she  must.  What 
else  can  we  do?  Everything  she  will  suffer  you  have 
brought    upon   her,    don't    forget   that."      Conversation 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  45 

was  possible  since  Miss  Salter's  massive  hands,  encased 
in  shining  kid,  shielded  her  ears  from  anything  that 
Ralph  might  have  to  say.  "  Topham,"  to  the  servant 
at  the  door,  "  the  brougham,  as  soon  as  ever  it  can  be 
brought  round.  You  will  allow  me,  you  really  must  allow 
me  to  send  you  home  in  the  brougham !  "  Her  ladyship's 
voice  rose  hysterically  in  her  endeavour  to  get  through 
Miss  Salter's  guard. 

"  If  you  like,"  was  the  ungracious  reply. 

Lilith  listened,  shrinking  and  white.  To  her  the  most 
dreadful  thing  in  the  whole  dreadful  situation  was  that 
Ralph  saw  reason  to  be  so  angry.  Scraps  of  the  stories 
Muriel  told  in  the  dark  floated  vaguely  through  her 
mind,  but  to  establish  the  connection  between  Muriel's 
stories,  Ralph's  anger  and  herself  was  not  easy. 

There  was  a  few  moments'  throbbing  silence.  Then 
the  brougham  wheels  crunched  on  the  gravel.  Never  was 
sound  more  welcome.  Miss  Salter  rose,  made  a  grab 
at  Lilith's  apathetic  hand  as  she  passed  her,  and  departed, 
dragging  a  passive  prisoner  after  her. 


VIII 


Once  again  the  wheels  crunched  on  the  gravel.  Ralph 
stood  absolutely  still;  every  faculty  he  had  transferred 
to  his  ears.  At  the  back  of  his  consciousness  was  begin- 
ning to  dawn  the  suspicion  that  the  part  he  had  played 
might  justly  be  styled  pitiful.  And  yet,  he  asked  him- 
self irritably,  what  else  could  he  have  done?  What  else 
was  left  for  him  to  do  even  now?  Unconsciously,  his 
mother  replied. 

"  Ralph,"  she  said,  her  voice  running  up  into  a  tragic 
wail,  "  you  will  have  to  marry  her.  That  woman  says 
it  is  all  you  can  do." 

"Marry!"  For  one  moment  he  stood  aghast;  the 
next  he  had  turned  upon  her  in  a  concentrated  white 
fury  before  which  even  Lady  Nora  trembled  and  shrank. 

"  There  is  only  one  description  for  a  suggestion  of 
that  sort,"  he  said  very  low.    "  It  is  brutal." 

Lady  Nora  threw  herself  into  the  nearest  chair,  put 
her  lace  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  began  to  cry. 

"  It  is  a  fitting  finish,"  she  sobbed,  "  a  fitting  finish  to 
a  dreadful  day,  to  end  by  insulting  your  mother." 

"  I  am  not  insulting  my  mother."  Ralph  dropped 
on  his  knees  beside  her  and  wreathed  his  arms  in  quick 
embrace  about  her  waist.  "  The  idea  is  none  of  my 
mother's.  I  know  her — and  she  knows  me.  She  would 
never  dream " 

"  Oh,"  said  Lady  Nora,  with  all  the  impatience  of 
acute  distress,  "  of  course  I  shouldn't.  You  are  a  gentle- 
man— according  to  your  lights.  It  isn't  what  has  hap- 
pened— it  is  what  people  will  think  has  happened." 

"  Damn  what  people  think,"  said  Ralph  under  his 
breath. 

46 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  47 

"  Yes,  you  can — but  Lilith  can't !  "  sobbed  his  mother. 
Ralph  sprang  to  his  feet  and  began  to  walk  restlessly  up 
and  down  the  room. 

"  It  makes  me  hate  the  whole  world  and  everybody 
in  it,"  he  said  furiously.  "  There  is  no  one  who  under- 
stands but  you !    I  can't  even  be  sure  of  father !  " 

"  No,  indeed  you  can't,"  agreed  her  ladyship  with 
fervour. 

"  And  the  child  has  been  as  safe  with  me  as  she  would 
have  been  in  her  mother's  own  drawing-room." 

"  I  don't  suppose  her  mother  has  a  drawing-room ! " 
with  that  exquisitely  irritating  irrelevancy  of  which  a 
woman  is  capable.  "  Her  father  was  a  grocer  in  Peck- 
ham  !  Miss  Salter  told  me  so  just  now.  It  isn't  the  kind 
of  family  connection  one  chooses;  you  must  acknowledge 
that,  Ralph." 

"  Mother,  I  don't  understand ! "  in  blank  dismay. 
"  Are  you  still  suggesting,  in  the  face  of  my  positive 
denial " 

"  Ralph,"  with  tragic  certainty,  "  you  kissed  her." 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Ralph  with  an  uneasy  laugh. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  with  bitter  emphasis,  "  that  you 
don't  see  even  yet  what  you  have  done?  " 

"  I  haven't  done  anything.  Are  you  going  to  fail 
me,  too  ?  Isn't  there  one  person  in  the  world  who  believes 
in  me  ? " 

"  Oh,  believes  in  you.  You  wouldn't  lower  me,  I 
hope,  to  the  level  of  the  woman  who  has  just  gone  out. 
But  this  you  acknowledge.    You  say  you  kissed  her." 

"  Mother,  a  child  of  sixteen !    What  does  it  matter?  " 

"  But  it  is  because  it  is  a  child  of  sixteen  that  it  does 
matter.  A  year  or  two  more,  and  a  kiss  assumes  its 
proper  proportions.    At  sixteen  it  fills  the  universe." 

"  She  will — forget,"  muttered  Ralph  half  sullenly, 
half  distressed. 

"You  intend  her  to  forget?  There  is  nothing,  posi- 
tively nothing  behind  it?" 

"  Good  Lord,"  said  Ralph,  "  I  never  even  dreamed  of 


48  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

such  a  thing.  I  never  thought  about  anything — but  my 
picture." 

*'  Oh,"  said  her  ladyship  with  a  catch  in  her  throat, 
"  you  are  just  as  cruel  as  all  the  rest  of  them." 

The  brougham  rolled  smoothly  home  through  the 
dusk.  The  hall  at  Ascham  House  was  dark  when  they 
reached  it.  From  the  schoolrooms  came  the  buzz  of 
talk,  an  occasional  laugh,  a  bar  or  two  of  waltz  music,  that 
marked  Wednesday  evening.  Miss  Salter  kept  a  firm 
grip  on  Lilith's  grey  frieze  jacket-sleeve  as  if  she  feared 
an  attempt  to  run  away,  but  the  grip  was  over-nice  and 
confined  to  the  ends  of  the  fingers.  Lilith  was  aware  of 
the  peculiar  quality  in  her  hold,  but  the  niceties  of  Miss 
Salter's  demeanour  left  her  unmoved  and  indifferent. 
What  she  said  forced  its  significance  through  the  mist 
of  apathy  that  for  the  moment  dulled  all  feeling. 

"  You  will  go  upstairs  into  the  sick-room,  and  stay 
there  for  the  present.  Ruth  can  bring  your  things  out 
of  the  room  where  you  sleep." 

"  The  sick-room ! "  The  isolated  and  lonely  little 
cupboard  at  the  end  of  a  long  corridor  reserved  exclu- 
sively for  influenza  colds  and  the  doubtful  beginning  of 
illnesses  that  might  declare  themselves  infectious  rose 
chill  in  her  mind.  "  The  sick-room !  "  she  said  again  in 
growing  bewilderment.  "  But  there  is  nothing  the  matter 
with  me." 

"  There  is  everything  the  matter  with  you !  "  The 
hateful  hiss  of  the  schoolmistress's  voice  afTected  her 
ears  with  positive  physical  pain.  "  You  are  a  moral 
leper ;  the  very  sight  of  you  is  contamination !  If  I 
could,  I  would  put  you  out  there — in  the  street — where 
you  belong.  Do  you  think  I  would  allow  you  to  mix 
with  the  others — to  carry  the  taint  of  your  presence 
amongst  innocent  children  !  " 

Lilith  listened,  her  white  face  gleaming  in  the  shadows 
of  the  hall.  The  full  significance  of  an  evil-minded 
woman's  words  was,  happily,  not  clear  to  her,  but  she 
did  understand  that  the  fact  of  her  having  passed  three 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  49 

hours  alone  with  a  smiling-  boy  in  an  atmosphere  of  pure 
ideals,  of  tea  and  cakes,  flowers  and  colour,  of  aspirations 
solely  artistic  on  Ralph's  part  and  the  dawning,  on  hers, 
of  a  sentiment  as  exquisite  and  as  pure  as  ever  regen- 
erated a  muddy  world  had,  in  Miss  Salter's  opinion, 
rendered  her  unfit  as  a  companion  for  such  girls  as  Ellen 
Druce  and  Muriel  Weatherly.  For  a  moment  Lilith 
pondered  the  situation,  and  then  she  laughed,  an  odd,  per- 
fectly unaffected,  clear  little  laugh  of  genuine  amusement. 
The  sound  seemed  to  rouse  Miss  Salter  to  fury. 

"  Get  upstairs,"  she  ordered ;  "  hide  yourself.  I  shall 
send  for  your  mother  to-morrow." 

The  fact  that  Lilith  had  returned  crept  through  the 
house  almost  on  the  air.  No  one  seemed  to  mention  it, 
yet  within  half  an  hour  everybody  knew.  The  news 
that  she  was  shut  up  in  disgrace  in  the  little  "  sick- 
room "  at  the  end  of  the  corridor,  that  her  "  things  "  had 
been  removed  from  room  nine,  that  her  mother  was  to 
be  sent  for  on  the  morrow,  followed  close.  The  whole 
atmosphere  pulsed  with  a  vague  excitement  that  included 
everyone  in  the  house — but  the  culprit.  She  ate  the 
supper  of  bread  and  cheese  that  Ruth  brought  her,  and 
went  to  bed  in  a  calm  and  quiet  confidence  that  lifted 
her  above  the  tumult  of  the  world.  Her  life  was  no 
longer  her  own.  For  good  or  ill,  the  direction  and  shap- 
ing of  it  had  passed  out  of  her  own  hands  into  those  of 
Ralph  Mansfield.  She  looked  to  him,  now,  for  leading. 
In  a  complete  self-abandonment  that  necessarily  carried 
with  it  a  complete  calm,  she  awaited  the  next  manifesta- 
tion of  his  wishes.  That,  as  far  as  she  was  concerned, 
his  supreme  end  once  attained,  he  had  no  wishes ;  that 
he  could  lay  a  powerful  masculine  hand  upon  the  chords 
of  her  life,  checking,  with  a  crash,  its  simple  melody 
of  to-day  and  caring  nothing  for  the  richer  harmonies  of 
to-morrow ;  that  the  bold  touch  of  his  lips  on  hers  that 
had  to  herself  set  her  apart,  claimed  her  as  his  own, 
consecrated  her  to  his  uses,  had  to  him  been  a  moment's 
half-playful,   half-passionate   impulse   meaning  nothing, 


50  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

was  a  fact  that  never  even  dawned  as  a  possibility  on 
her  consciousness.  Indifferent  to  Miss  Salter's  inex- 
plicable attitude,  to  her  schoolfellows'  amazement,  to 
her  mother's  coming,  unavoidable  distress,  Lilith  lay 
under  the  faint  September  moonlight  dreamily  content. 
The  threads  of  her  life  lay  in  other  hands  now.  In  a 
blind  and  blissful  confidence,  she  awaited  their  weaving 
into  other  patterns.  What  that  pattern  might  be,  so 
that  Ralph  Mansfield  were  the  weaver,  she  cared  nothing. 


IX 


"  LiLiTH,  your  mother  has  come ! "  Muriel,  her 
shoes  in  her  hand,  crept  softly  up  the  long  passage  and 
silently  pushed  open  the  "  sick-room "  door.  Lilith 
turned  swiftly  from  the  window.  She  was  conscious 
of  a  dull  throb  of  excited  anticipation  and  her  almost 
colourless  cheeks  showed  yet  a  shade  less  colour.  But 
she  said  nothing.  Muriel  glanced  about  her  with  a 
giggle. 

"  It's  the  German  lesson,"  she  said.  "  I  pretended 
my  nose  was  bleeding,  and  slipped  out.  Fraulein  just 
said  '  Ach,  armes  Kind !  Som  von  trop  now  a  haus- 
schliissel  down  her  neck ! '  but,  of  course,  no  one  took 
any  notice.  Is  that  all  they  sent  you  for  dinner  ?  "  point- 
ing the  finger  of  scorn  at  the  cold  mutton  and  one  soapy 
potato  on  a  place  on  Lilith's  table.  "  Didn't  you  have 
any  rice  pudding?  It  was  horrid  stuff — currants  in  and 
half  water ! — but  it's  better  than  cold  mutton.  Oh,  Lilith, 
do,  do  tell  me  what  happened  yesterday!  I'm  dying  to 
hear.  I  should  have  come  to  you  last  night  only  Ma'm- 
selle  locked  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  corridor.  Did 
you  know  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Lilith  dully.     "  I  didn't  know." 

"  Then  you  never  tried  to  get  out  and  come  and  tell 
us!" 

"  I've — nothing  to  tell,"  answered  Lilith  in  a  smoth- 
ered undertone. 

"  Nothing  to  tell  I  But  I  want  to  hear  all  about  it ! 
Where  you  went  and  what  he  said  and — and  everything. 
If  it  had  been  me  I  should  have  had  reams  to  tell  you. 
Oh,  LiHth,  be  quick.  Any  minute  Miss  Salter  may  send 
for  you.    Besides,   I   shall   have  to  go  down  to  that 

51 


62  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

hideous  German.  Where  did  you  go?  What  did  you 
do?     Oh,  do  be  quick?  " 

Lilith's  lips  quivered  and  shut  close.  A  moment's 
time  and  she  would  escape  this  unholy  inquisition. 
What!  Lay  bare  to  Muriel's  curious  eyes  and  pruri- 
ently sniffing  nose  the  throbbing  depths  of  her  heart! 
Drag  out  for  her  coldly  critical  inspection  those  holy, 
hidden  things  even  now  illuminating  with  faint  radiance 
the  darkest  places  of  her  soul?  She  threw  up  one  arm 
against  the  window  frame  and  laid  a  throbbing  forehead 
on  it,  shrinking  perceptibly  from  her  persistent  inter- 
locutor. Muriel  crossed  the  room  to  her  side,  slipped 
a  quick  arm  about  her  waist,  and  advanced  a  mischiev- 
ously suggestive  face  over  her  shrinking  shoulder. 

"  Lilith,  did  he  kiss  you  ? "  she  asked.  The  rush 
of  crimson  over  Lilith's  whole  body  answered  her.  She 
danced  delightedly  from  one  slim,  black-stockinged  foot 
to  the  other, 

"  He  did !  He  did !  "  she  said,  her  voice  running 
up  into  a  kind  of  subdued  squeal  of  excitement.  "  Oh, 
Lilith,  go  on,  that  isn't  all  he  did." 

But  Lilith  turned  on  her  suddenly,  and  the  threat 
behind  the  smouldering  spark  lightening  and  darkening 
in  her  changing  eyes  was  so  plain  that  involuntarily 
Muriel  backed  away  from  her. 

"  You  are  a  mean  thing,"  she  said,  "  to  be  as  dumb 
as  a  fish  like  this.     But  Ellen  will  make  you  tell !     Oh! " 

Miss  Salter  was  coming  along  the  corridor.  Retreat 
was  impossible.  Miss  Salter  gazed  at  Muriel,  stony 
disapproval  in  her  eye. 

"  Go  down,"  she  said,  on  her  deepest  and  most  awful 
note.  "  And  you,"  gripping  Lilith's  sleeve  again  by 
the  extreme  tips  of  her  big,  bony  fingers,  "  you  come 
with  me." 

Down  the  corridor  and  the  staircase  and  across  the 
hall  she  marched  her  passive  prisoner.  The  upper  school- 
room door  was  open,  and  Lilith  was  scorchingly  aware 
of  sudden  silence,  of  many  craning  necks.     In  the  draw- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  53 

ing-room  the  blinds  were  drawn  to  keep  out  the  sun, 
and  the  room  was  filled  with  dim  radiance  and  sweet  with 
the  scent  of  dried  rose  leaves.  Someone,  who  looked 
to  Lilith's  dazzled  eyes  simply  a  black  blot  on  the  diffused 
glory  pouring  through  the  pink  striped  blinds,  rose  as 
she  came  in,  and  said,  "  Well,  Lilith  ?  "  That  was  her 
only  greeting.  So  depressing  evidently  had  been  Miss 
Salter's  recital  of  her  many  iniquities  that  any  other 
seemed  extravagant.  Lilith  stood  silent.  Her  mother's 
kiss  had  always  been  a  chill  and  perfunctory  perform- 
ance— but  she  missed  it.  Miss  Salter  gave  her  a  little 
push  in  the  direction  of  her  perturbed  parent. 

"  Take  her  home,"  she  said  sourly,  "  I've  done  with 
her." 

Lilith  started.  For  the  exacting  of  pledges  and  the 
imposing  of  many  punishments  she  was  prepared,  but 
that  she  should  be  ignominiously  sent  home  at  the  very 
beginning  of  the  Christmas  term  had  never  even  occurred 
to  her  as  possible.  It  was  the  bitter  end  of  everything. 
It  meant  banishment  into  that  outer  darkness  wherein 
was  no  Ralph  Mansfield.  It  meant  misery,  blackness, 
despair.  Under  the  stab  of  its  fear  Lilith  forgot  every- 
thing— even  the  sour  satisfaction  of  an  enemy  whose 
smite  had  been  even  as  heavy  as  she  wished  it  to  be. 

"  Oh,  no,  mother,"  she  said,  and  the  words  came  sharp 
and  quick,  "  don't,  don't  take  me  home." 

"  My  girl,"  said  her  mother  not  unkindly,  "  what 
can  you  expect — after  the  way  you've  been  a-going  on  ?  " 

Lilith's  eyes  opened.  The  words  curdled  in  her  ears. 
As  a  rule  her  mother  chose  her  phrases  with  a  precision 
that  suggested  that  their  choosing  was  a  new  thing  and 
had  never  become  easy.  The  mental  disturbance  that 
drove  her  back  into  the  use  of  expressions  for  long  years 
carefully  forgotten  must  have  been  considerable.  "  If, 
as  your  schoolmistress  says,  you  really  have  been  carry- 
ing on  with  a — young  man " 

"  I  haven't !  " 

"  But  vou  run  off  with  him !  " 


64  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  I  didn't  run  far,"  interrupted  Lilith  indignantly. 
"  I  only  went  to  the  rectory  to  see  his  pictures.  And 
I  had  been  there  before!  I  knew  Lady  Nora — and — 
and " 

The  girl's  voice  faltered.  The  intolerable  necessity 
of  explaining  to  an  audience  suspicious  of  everything 
unspeakable  circumstances  entirely  innocent  choked  her. 
Her  mother  turned  so  sharply  that  the  hard  little  bugles 
on  the  impossible  black  plume  decorating  her  best  bonnet 
rattled  again.  Already,  under  Lilith's  telling,  the  story 
bore  a  slightly  different  aspect. 

"  That  don't  sound  so  very  dreadful,"  she  said,  a 
little  doubtfully.  "  I  thought  it  was  a  lot  worse  than 
that.  A  stable,  she  said,  they  found  you  in.  Was  it 
a  stable?" 

"  It  was  a  large  room  over  the  stable,  his  studio — 
where  he  paints  his  pictures." 

"  And  do  other  ladies  go  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Lady  Nora  came  up  whilst  I  was  there.  She 
brought  me  down."  For  a  moment  her  mother  pondered 
the  situation. 

"  I've  no  wish  to  take  you  home,  I'm  sure,  Lilith," 
she  said  presently.  "  You've  always  seemed  contented 
and  happy — and  I  meant  you  to  stay  until  Christmas,  as 
well  you  know.  Perhaps,  if  you'll  be  a  good  girl,  my 
dear,   and  promise " 

Lilith  drew  back  sharply.  She  would  promise  noth- 
ing. The  easy  pledge  of  conscienceless  femininity,  given 
with  one  eye  already  on  the  possibility  of  its  early  eva- 
sion, was  not  for  her.  She  was  saved  the  necessity  of 
refusal.  Miss  Salter  shook  her  head  with  a  decision  that 
made  her  bunches  of  iron-grey  curls  dance  again. 

"  Take  her  home,  I've  done  with  her,"  she  said. 

Lilith  turned  swiftly,  and  with  wide,  accusing  eyes 
studied  her  instructress  in  the  paths  of  high  thinking. 

"  Why  ?  "  she  asked  breathlessly. 

"  You  know  why."  responded  her  accuser. 

"  I   don't,"   answered   Lilith  passionately,   "  at   least 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  55 

I  do!  And  you  are  a  wicked,  wicked  woman,"  she 
went  on  deliberately.  "  I  would  be  ashamed  to  even 
think  the  things — the  things " 

"  My  girl,  my  girl,"  interrupted  her  mother  sadly, 
"  old  folks  know  what  young  folks  be." 

The  girl's  long  arms  drooped  limply  to  her  sides. 
Suddenly  the  black  and  bitter  flood  of  the  world's  evil 
seemed  to  well  up  about  her  and  reach  her  lips  and 
poison  her,  that  evil  that  must  exist  because  to  all  the 
world  except  herself  its  presence  was  so  plain.  Dumbly 
she  compared  the  world  as  she  saw  it  with  the  world 
these  others  knew.  It  was  to  see  the  blue  and  white 
of  heaven  in  a  rainpool  and  then  stir  up  its  muddy  bottom 
with  a  stick. 

Her  mother  twisted  her  knuckled  hands,  in  their 
shining  black  kid  gloves,  together  on  her  lap,  and  sobbed 
a  dry  little  sob  that  ended  in  a  sniff.  Miss  Salter  rose, 
in  wrath  and  malevolence. 

"  I  know  yon,"  she  said,  "  I  know  you  well  enough 
to  want  nothing  more  to  do  with  you.  Take  her  home !  " 
to  the  mother.     "  Take  her  home  nom." 

Her  mother  rose  in  a  sort  of  depressed  resignation 
to  the  inevitable.  Lilith  drew  a  long  hard  breath.  She 
was  to  be  taken  home,  taken  home  now.  The  prospect 
was  appalling,  the  sense  of  loss,  of  frustration,  unendur- 
able. It  scattered  to  the  four  winds  her  anger,  her  in- 
dignation.    It  even  subdued  her  pride. 

"  Please,  Miss  Salter,  no,"  she  begged.  "  Dion't, 
don't  send  me  home.  I  will  be  a  good  girl.  I  will 
promise " 

Almost  they  had  wrung  it  from  her,  the  promise 
that,  should  he  tempt  her  to  its  breaking,  she  knew 
she  could  not  keep. 

"  My  dear,"  said  her  mother,  dimly  discerning,  "  it's 
better  you  should  come  home.  Why  are  you  so  set 
against  it  ?  " 

"Need  you  ask?" — ^the   schoolmistress   spoke  with 


56  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

atrabilious  emphasis.  "  It's  that  man  she  can't  bear  to 
leave!     Can't  you  see  it  for  yourself?" 

It  was  true.  There  it  stood,  plain  for  all  to  read  on 
Lilith's  crimson  face.  The  passing  years  reconcile  us 
to  the  cruel  penetration  of  our  elders;  it  is  youth  that 
by  it  is  confounded  and  dismayed.  It  stirred  Lilith 
to  desperation,  it  even  moved  her  to  the  pathetically 
futile  rebellion  of  helpless  childhood  against  those  that 
are  set  in  such  boundless  authority  over  it. 

"  I  won't,"  she  said  with  sudden  violence,  "  I  ivon't 
go  home !  " 

The  drawing-room  door  opened.  "  Lady  Nora 
Mansfield,"  announced  the  maid.  Her  ladyship  ad- 
vanced a  few  steps  into  the  room  and  stood  still,  her 
blue  eyes,  so  like  her  son's,  widening  and  darkening 
with  painful  interest.  She  was  five-and-forty,  but  the 
soft  brownness  of  her  hair  rippled  away,  innocent  of 
any  touch  of  silver,  under  the  soft  elegance  of  her  grey 
hat.  Her  grey  dress,  of  that  soft  silk  that  makes  no 
rustle  when  its  wearer  moves,  fell  in  matchless  folds 
about  her ;  into  the  filmy  laces  at  her  bosom  was  tucked 
a  knot  of  big  purple  pansies,  velvet  leaved  and  faintly 
odorous.  A  greater  contrast  than  that  between  her 
and  the  hard-faced  woman  facing  her,  her  hard  black 
hair  smoothly  banded  under  her  hard  black  bonnet,  could 
scarcely  have  been  imagined, 

"  Oh,"  she  said  a  little  brokenly,  "  I'm  in  the  way. 
But  I  don't  apologise — because  it's  so  exactly  where  I 
want  to  be.  I  mean,  of  course,  oh,  you  knozv  what  I 
mean,  don't  you?  " 

Miss  Salter  smiled  sourly;  she  had  shaken  hands 
in  silence  a  moment  ago.  She  was  not  pleased  to  see 
her  ladyship  at  this  juncture  and  she  did  not  say  she 
was.  With  an  abrupt  movement  she  indicated  the  dark 
figure,  awkwardly  uncertain  whether  to  sit  or  to  stand 
in  the  presence  of  "  a  title,"  a  few  paces  away. 

"  That  is  the  girl's  mother,"  she  said  abruptly. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  57 

Her  ladyship  stared  a  moment  in  frank  scrutiny;  it 
was  difficult  to  believe  it. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  she  said  mechanically,  with  that 
iitter  absence  of  expression  that  is  of  all  insults  the  most 
insulting,  and  then  she  turned  with  all  her  heart  in  her 
eyes  to  Lilith. 

The  girl's  whole  personality  thrilled  to  the  look. 
Slowly  an  amazing  truth,  the  cruelty  of  which  she  had 
not  yet  had  time  to  realise,  was  clear  to  her.  It  was 
to  that  exquisite  vision  in  grey,  the  highly-bred  aristo- 
crat with  the  seeing  eye  and  the  understanding  heart 
that  she  turned,  not  to  the  mother  who  bore  her,  who 
had  given  her  of  her  best,  who  had,  by  her  own  self- 
denial,  educated  her  into  something  above  her  own  level, 
something  that  was  now  subtly  antagonistic  and  hyper- 
critical, something  to  the  true  understanding  of  which  she 
could  never  hope  to  attain.  Lady  Nora  would  under- 
stand. 

"  Oh,  Lady  Nora,"  she  pleaded  passionately,  "  don't, 
don't  let  them  take  me  home." 

Her  ladyship  took  a  swift  gliding  step  to  her  side. 

"Take  you  home!"  she  echoed.  "My  dear,  oh, 
my  dear!" 

There  was  in  her  musical  voice  with  its  earnest, 
deliberate  utterance  not  only  sympathy  and  sorrow,  but 
an  abject  apology  for  further  intolerable  happenings. 
Lilith  gave  her  one  heart-searching  look  and  broke 
down  into  passionate  weeping.  Lady  Nora  put  her  arm 
round  her  and  gathered  her  close  to  her  side. 

"  Go  away,  you  two,"  she  said  brokenly,  "  I  have 
something  to  say  to  her." 

They  obeyed  her.  She  was  not  only  the  rector's 
wife  but  the  great  lady  of  the  district,  and  she  always 
had  been  obeyed.  She  drew  the  sobbing  child  closer 
and  bent  her  gracious  head. 

"  Lilith,"  she  said,  "  I  am  going  to  be  cruel,  very 
cruel,  but  at  heart  I  am  truly  kind.  My  dear,  it  is  best 
that  you  should  go  home.     It  is  not — it  never  has  been — 


58  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

to  him — what  you  have  been  thinking.  He  has  gone 
away,  Lilith,  right  away  to  the  Austrian  Tyrol  for  a 
year.  Do  you  think  he  would  have  done  that  if  he  had — 
cared — as  you  thought?  His  father  suggested  it,  per- 
haps insisted  on  it,  but  he  was  glad  to  go!  He  has 
never  considered  you  in  the  matter  at  all;  it  was  your 
pretty  face  he  wanted — and  that  was  all.  Men  don't 
consider  us,  Lilith,  only  themselves " 

"  You  don't  believe  that,"  said  Lilith  passionately. 

"  God  forgive  me,  no,  I  don't,"  agreed  her  ladyship 
penitently.  "  I  have  known  good  men,  selfless  men, 
men  all  the  world  was  better  for  knowing — and  I  also !  " 
— ^the  portly  and  amiable  James  Mansfield,  rector  of  Bel- 
thorpe,  was  not,  however,  in  her  ladyship's  mind  at  the 
moment.  "  But  I  fear  Ralph  isn't  one  of  them.  Lilith, 
how  shall  I  put  it?  What  shall  I  say  that  will  not  be 
too  brutal  ?  "  For  the  moment  Lady  Nora's  heart  burnt 
within  her.  Why  should  the  callous  explanation  have 
fallen  to  her  ?  "  Dear,  you  will  not  see  him  again. 
He — ^he  doesn't  want  to  see  you  again." 

It  was  done.  The  axe  was  laid  at  the  root  of  a 
child's  faith  in  her  fellow  creatures,  and  it  had  fallen 
to  Lady  Nora  to  strike  the  first  blow.  The  girl  shivered 
as  she  stood  in  the  warm  glory  of  the  afternoon.  The 
sense  of  desertion,  of  betrayal,  affected  her  with  physical 
cold. 

"  I — ^you  are  right,  I  had  better  go  home,"  she  said. 

And  on  the  deck  of  the  Channel  boat  making  the 
afternoon  crossing  Ralph  walked  slowly  to  and  fro,  lost 
in  retrospect.  He  was  in  no  way  compromised,  he  had 
said  nothing,  done  nothing,  which  the  whole  world  might 
not  have  heard  and  seen.  To  be  sure,  he  had  kissed  her. 
"  Oh,  well,  a  child  of  sixteen !  "  he  said. 


"  Emily,"  called  Mrs.  Somers  up  the  kitchen  stairs, 
"  you  going-  to  spend  the  'ole  day  in  bed  ?  " 

Breakfast  was  over,  Lilith's  first  breakfast  at  home 
since  what  her  mother  drearily  referred  to  every  now  and 
then  as  her  "  misfortune."  The  window  of  the  half 
basement  room  in  which  it  had  been  eaten  afforded  for 
study  a  depressing  selection  of  feet  and  ankles,  dragging 
skirt  edges,  and  frayed  trouser  legs.  The  table-cloth 
was  crumpled  and  had  a  continent  done  in  coffee  at  its 
lower  end,  and  a  reminiscence  of  the  breakfast  bacon 
still  hung  distressfully  in  the  atmosphere.  Mrs.  Somers, 
in  a  pair  of  heelless  slippers  and  a  purple  flannelette 
blouse,  pattered  softly  back  into  the  breakfast  room  again. 

"  I  wish  that  gel  would  get  up  of  a  morning,"  she 
said.  "  It  keeps  the  work  draggin'  on  so.  I  never  seem 
to  be  finished  an'  able  to  get  a  bit  of  sewing  done.  Jane's 
up,  an'  I'm  up,  an'  you're  up — and  why  shouldn't  she  get 
up !     That's  what  I'd  like  to  know." 

'*  Do  you  do  everything  yourself,  now,  mother  ? " 
asked  Lilith. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  an'  why  not  ?  "  The  breakfast  things 
clashed  rhythmically  as  she  piled  them  on  a  tray.  "  I 
don't  need  a  girl,  not  with  four  of  us  at  'ome.  To  be 
sure,  Jane's  a  good  deal  occupied ;  she's  got  a  bazaar 
comin'  on  now,  some  time  before  Christmas,  an'  Emily's 
not  what  one  might  call  industrious ;  never  was.  I  don't 
think  the  gel's  well ;  I  always  tell  Jane  so.  If  she  was 
well,  she's  be  different ;  it  stands  to  reason.  So  between 
Jane's  chapel-work  and  Emily's  ill-'ealth,  well,  I  don't 
get  as  much  'elp  as  I  might  about  the  'ouse." 

"  I'll  help,  mother,"  said  Lilith  eagerly,  but  Mrs. 
Somers  looked  a  little  dubious  and  by  no  means  grateful. 

59 


60  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  I  don't  see  that  there's  much  that  you  can  do,  my 
dear,"  she  said  slowly ;  "  I've  got  me  own  ways,  and 
it  would  only  bother  me  to  have  them  upset.  Besides, 
one  doesn't  spend  the  money  I've  spent  on  an  education 
like  yours,  Lilith,  to  have  you  come  'ome  and  wash  sauce- 
pans in  a  dark  scullery," 

Lilith's  face  settled  into  lines  of  unwilling  agreement. 
It  was  not  an  attractive  prospect.  But  even  the  washing 
of  saucepans  in  a  dark  scullery  was  better  than  to  face 
the  waste  of  hours  which  stretched  before  her  sauce- 
panless. 

"  But — I  must  do  something,"  she  said  almost  under 
her  breath. 

"  You  get  along  upstairs  and  practise  your  music," 
suggested  her  mother  crisply.  "  I  don't  see  that  every- 
thing need  be  thrown  away  because  I've  had  to  take  you 
home  in  disgrace." 

The  words  stung.  It  was  a  relief  to  climb  the  dark 
kitchen  staircase  and  get  away  from  them.  The  drawing- 
room  was  a  depressing  room,  too,  furnished  in  black 
horsehair  and  plentifully  spotted  with  white  antimacas- 
sars. But  at  least  one  could  study  the  passers-by  whole 
and  not  in  sections.  One  by  one  Lilith  picked  up  the 
books  that  lay  at  regular  intervals  round  the  edge  of  the 
bare  and  highly  polished  centre  table.  A  "  Garland," 
a  copy  of  "  Martin  Chuzzlewit "  that  had  evidently  never 
,  been  read,  "  The  Sowers'  Band,"  a  missionary  periodical 
in  a  vivid  blue  cover  that  suggested  serials  and  disap- 
pointingly fizzled  out  into  sermons,  in  the  middle  a 
Family  Bible,  with  a  bouquet  of  wax  flowers  under  a 
glass  shade  standing  on  the  top!  She  had  seen  them 
all  before,  many,  many  times. 

"  Lilith,"  called  her  mother  up  the  kitchen  stairs, 
"  didn't  I  tell  you  to  practise  ?  " 

Lilith  opened  the  piano,  tried  with  a  tentative  finger 
a  note  here  and  there,  and  made  a  wry  face. 

"  Lilith,"  called  her  mother  again,  "  I  don't  call  that 
practising." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  61 

The  piano  lid  fell. 

"  Mother,"  she  said,  going  listlessly  downstairs,  "  I 
can't  play  on  that  thing.     It's  all  out  of  tune." 

Mrs.  Somers  looked  at  her  a  moment. 

"  Don't  you  give  yourself  airs,  my  girl,"  she  advised 
mildly.  "  If  it's  good  enough  for  your  sisters,  it's  good 
enough  for  you." 

Lilith  moved  an  uneasy  shoulder.  "  Isn't  there  any- 
thing else  I  can  do?  "  she  asked. 

"  You  can  keep  your  own  bedroom  tidy,"  said  her 
mother.     "  That'll  be  one  thing  off  my  hands,  anyhow." 

Lilith  ran  upstairs  almost  cheerfully ;  here  was  some- 
thing to  do.  But  one  must  have  a  positive  genius  for 
wasting  time  to  make  the  "  tidying  "  of  one  small  bed- 
room last  more  than  an  hour.  In  an  hour  Lilith  had 
done  everything  she  could  think  of,  and  had  wandered 
downstairs  again. 

"  Mother,"  she  said  again,  "  isn't  there  aw^'thing  that 
I  can  do?" 

"  Lor'  bless  the  girl,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Somers  with 
a  touch  of  exasperation,  "  why,  there's  lots  of  things 
you  can  do.  Get  some  sewin'.  Get  a  book  and  read  if 
you  like.  Not  that  I  'old  with  too  much  readin'  in  a 
momin',  not  like  Emily  does,  at  least.  Why,  what  do 
you  want  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Lilith  in  a  half  whisper,  "  but 
I  must  have  something  to  do." 

The  contrast  between  the  life  she  had  just  left,  with 
its  thronging  companionship,  its  crowded  hours,  each 
one  bringing  its  own  unescapable  duty,  its  vivid  if  nar- 
row interests,  and  the  life  that  stretched  before  her, 
grey  and  unending,  all  down  the  long  vista  of  days, 
every  day  like  this  day,  seemed  to  stultify,  stifle,  crush 
her.  Was  there  nothing,  positively  nothing,  for  her  to 
do?  Her  mother  glanced  at  her  and  vaguely,  dimly 
recognised  in  the  girl's  eyes  a  dawning  despair. 

"  Here,"  she  said ;  "  you  get  along  into  the  break- 
fast parlour  and  get  Em  to  give  you  one  of  her  penny 


62  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

stories.  It'd  be  better  to  read  all  day  like  she  does 
than  to  look  at  your  mother  like  that," 

Em  glanced  up  as  Lilith  entered  and  nodded,  not 
unamiably,  but  she  was  too  much  absorbed  in  the  sorrows 
of  a  heroine  whose  youthfulness  hardly  excused  her  com- 
plete lack  of  common  sense  to  speak.  Lilith  took 
up  one  from  a  pile  of  penny  stories  beside  her  and  dipped 
into  it.  But  such  treacly  fiction  so  early  in  the  day 
was  a  little  cloying,  and  she  laid  it  down  again.  Her 
mother  bustled  in  from  the  back  kitchen,  her  hands  full 
of  newly-washed  spoons. 

"  Two,  four,  five !  Where's  the  other  teaspoon, 
Em?  "  she  said.  "  You  took  it  upstairs  for  your  com- 
plexion mixture,  and,  of  course,  you  never  brought  it 
down  again.  There  she  sits !  "  in  sudden  exasperation, 
addressing  no  one  in  particular.  **  There  she  sits ! 
Teven  o'clock  of  a  morning,  an'  'er  'air  in  'Indes  curlers, 
an'  a  dirty  wrapper  on.  I  don't  know  what's  coming 
to  you,  my  girl,  an'  that's  the  trewth.  You  get  lazier  an' 
lazier.  I  never  did  so  at  your  age.  But  I  know  what's 
amiss.  It's  all  because  we  'aven't  got  a  man  in  the 
'ouse.  I  never  did  'old  with  a  houseful  o'  wimmen, 
never;  it  isn't  natural;  it  isn't  commonly  'ealthy.  If 
only  we  could  get  a  man  in  the  'ouse  it  'ud  do  us  all  good. 
Oh,  I  don't  mean  a  sweetheart  for  you — you'll  get  no 
sweetheart,  my  girl,  till  you're  a  bit  diflferent  to  what 
you've  been  lately.  I  mean  just  a  man  to  liven  things 
up  a  bit,  to  make  it  more  cheerful-like  at  meals,  to  make 
you  arsk  yourself  what  sort  of  a  guy  you  look  of  a 
mornin'.  He  needn't  even  be  a  young  one — but  we  do 
want  a  man  of  some  sort ;  it's  o'ny  natural.  To  be  sure, 
there's  the  Rev.  Samuel.  He's  better  than  nothing — 
but  that's  only  Sundays " 

"  Who?"  asked  Lilith,  as  the  stream  of  her  mother's 
remark  plashed  indistinctly  in  the  back  kitchen. 

"  Sam  Loveday,  Jane's  sweetheart,"  answered  Em, 
detaching  herself  with  difficulty  from  her  trouble-tossed 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  63 

heroine.  "At  least,"  and  her  grin  was  just  touched 
with  sisterly  malice,  "  she  likes  to  think  he  is." 

Lilith  thrilled.  Jane,  in  what  looked  to  Lilith  the 
years  of  her  middle  age,  Jane,  with  her  smoothly  banded 
hair,  her  high  cheek-bones,  her  flat  and  emphatic  foot, 
had  with  her  big-wristed  knuckly  hands  opened  the  oyster 
of  life  and  found  within  it  the  pearl  that  Lilith  so  pas- 
sionately coveted,  had  fancied,  indeed,  her  own  until  it 
turned  to  a  pinch  of  worthless  dust  in  her  fingers,  the 
pearl  of  true  romance.  "Jane!"  she  said  softly,  for 
truly  the  finder  and  the  find  were  a  little  difficult  to 
reconcile.     And  her  mother  heard  her. 

"  Ay,  Jane,"  she  said,  and  the  accent  of  profound 
satisfaction  softened  and  rounded  her  tones.  "  I'd  be 
rare  and  glad  to  have  Jane  married.  It'd  be  one  of  you 
oflF  my  hands,  anyway — and  'tis  but  right  the  eldest 
should  go  first.  She'd  be  in  her  right  place,  too,  as  a 
pastor's  wife,  Jane  would.  She's  a  sensible  girl  with  no 
nonsense  about  her,  an'  Sam  Loveday  knows  it.  She'll 
have  a  bit  of  money,  too,  when  I  go,  an'  Sam  Loveday 
knows  that  as  well.  It's  a  help,  is  a  bit  of  money  when 
it  comes  to  gettin'  your  girls  took  off  your  hands,  for 
there's  not  one,  not  even  among  the  godliest  of  'em, 
but  sees  the  worth  of  it." 

"  But,  mother!  you  don't  think  it's  because  there 
will  be — a  little  money " 

"  I  didn't  say  because  of  it,  my  girl ;  I  said  it  was 
a  'elp,"  explained  Mrs.  Somers  mildly.  "  Jane's  a  good 
girl,  but  she's  no  beauty.  An'  Sam  Loveday's  a  decent 
fellow  and  a  good  pastor — ^but  he  knows  which  side  his 
bread's  buttered,  same  as  th'  rest.  More  fool  him  if  he 
didn't." 

Lilith  turned  away  with  a  sharply  indrawn  breath. 
Her  interest  in  the  matter  had  gone.  Jane's  pearl,  too, 
was  but  a  pinch  of  dust  a  little  dustier  than  her  own. 
Emily's  eyes  followed  her  curiously. 

"  Lilith,"  she  said,  "  tell  me  about  your  sweetheart. 
How  did  you  get  to  know  him?    What  was  he  like?  " 


64  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Lilith  started,  and  then,  as  she  stood,  every  muscle 
stiffened,  stiffened  slowly  into  a  rigidity  that  made  of 
her  a  marble  likeness  of  the  girl  she  had  been  a  moment 
before.  To  tear  away  in  this  way  the  wrappings  of  a 
decent  dumbness  beneath  which  she  had  hidden  the 
wound,  unhealed  and  festering,  that  Ralph  Mansfield 
had  dealt  her !  To  pry,  not  only  with  a  careless  indiffer- 
ence but  with  a  touch  of  hideous  levity,  into  the  shrink- 
ing shadows  of  her  heart's  deepest  silences!  It  was  an 
insult,  an  outrage,  intolerable,  unendurable.  For  a  mo- 
ment she  stood  incapable  of  speech.  Then  a  rush  of 
colour  swept  up  to  the  soft  dusk  of  her  hair ;  her  whole 
figure  seemed  to  glow  in  the  flood  of  her  blushes,  to  ex- 
pand and  dilate  with  the  tumult  of  her  thought  till  the 
scanty  sheath  of  her  "  schoolroom  frock  "  took  on  a  touch 
of  the  ludicrous.  Under  the  vivid  lightning  of  her  look, 
Em,  in  spite  of  her  ten  years'  seniority,  shrank  after  a 
fashion  that  she  told  herself  was  frankly  ridiculous. 
For  Lilith's  voice  was  an  anticlimax. 

"  If  you  dare,"  she  gasped,  "  if  you  ever  dare  to 
mention  him  to  me  again " 

Em  laughed. 

"  Well,  of  all  the  little  spitfires !  "  she  said. 

The  touch  of  keen  amusement,  almost  gratified 
amusement  in  her  voice,  scorched.  For  a  moment  Lilith 
saw  herself  in  the  eyes  of  her  sister,  a  living,  breathing, 
penny  novelette.  The  revelation  blasted.  She  fled  up- 
stairs to  the  shelter  of  her  own  little  box-like  room. 
There  at  least  was  a  decent  reserve,  a  blessed  privacy. 

"  Mother,"  said  Em  as  Mrs.  Somers  deftly  arranged 
flour,  lard,  and  pasteboard  on  the  little  table  under  the 
window  where  she  did  her  cooking,  "  that  affair  of 
Lilith's  has  been  more  serious  than  we  thought.  She 
pretty  near  swallowed  me  just  now  because  I  dared  to 
mention  it." 

"  Then  it's  sorry  I  am  to  hear  it,"  rejoined  Lilith's 
mother  with  a  shake  of  her  smooth,  dark  head  and  a 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  65 

heavy  sigh.  "  It's  a  bad  thing  for  a  girl  when  her  first 
try  at  sweetheartin'  goes  wrong,  a  ter'ble  bad  thing." 

"  Lihth,"  called  her  mother  some  two  hours  later, 
"  Lilith,  dinner's  ready.  Bless  the  girl,"  she  added  to 
herself,  "  where's  she  got  to  now  ?  " 

"  She's  gone  out,  mother,"  Jane  answered  as  she 
came  out  of  the  drawing-room,  picking  various  scraps 
of  parti-coloured  wools  from  the  front  of  her  brown 
dress,  and  mentally  contemplating  with  satisfaction  the 
row  of  baby's  woollen  boots,  pink  and  white  and  blue, 
standing  on  the  bare  table  between  the  "  Garland  "  and 
"  Martin  Chuzzlewit."  "  She  went  out  a  good  hour 
ago,  and  she  hasn't  come  back  yet." 

"  I  wonder  where  she's  got  to  now,"  remarked  Lilith's 
mother  again. 

Lilith,  had  her  mother  only  known  it,  had  "  got " 
a  very  long  way,  for  the  distance  between  Canonbury 
and  Hyde  Park  Corner  is  not  to  be  measured  by  miles, 
and  it  was  in  Rotten  Row  that  Lilith  was  spending  her 
morning.  To  many,  accustomed  to  the  glories  of  May 
and  June,  Rotten  Row  in  the  first  week  in  October  is  a 
depressing  spectacle.  The  pageant  of  the  early  year  is 
over;  the  soberer  dehghts  of  the  autumn  season  not  yet 
begun.  London,  we  are  told,  though  it  is  difficult  to 
accept  the  fact,  is  empty.  The  occasional  equestrian, 
the  bored-looking  saunterer  on  the  empty  gravelled  path- 
way, the  melancholy  array  of  reserved  chairs,  with  their 
legs  sticking  stiffly  and  forlornly  upward,  emphasize  the 
fact,  in  spite  of  the  hurrying  and  undiminished  thousands 
on  the  other  side  of  the  park  railings.  But  to  Lilith  this 
morning  the  great  gates  were  not  an  entrance  to  the 
park;  they  were  the  entrance  to  Paradise.  It  was  not 
that  the  trees  still  rustled  softly,  clothed  in  the  full 
leafage  of  an  almost  perfect  year;  it  was  not  that,  gor- 
geous with  geranium,  fuchsia,  begonia,  high  summer 
still  blazed  from  the  glowing  flower-beds.  It  was  that 
here  and  here  only  could  she,  a  poor  little  feminine 
Moses,  catch  a  glimpse  from  the  Pisgah  of  a  common 
5 


66  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

vantage-ground  of  the  land  her  occasional  visits  at  the 
rectory,  more  than  all  the  one  afternoon  that  glowed 
jewel-like  in  spite  of  everything  in  her  memory,  had 
seemed  to  promise  her.  The  women  here,  few  though 
they  were,  moved  like  Lady  Nora,  spoke  like  Lady  Nora, 
wore  their  clothes  like  Lady  Nora.  About  the  men  was 
that  subtle  difference  that  had  set  the  graceless  youth  she 
had  dowered  with  so  many  attributes  that  did  not  belong 
to  him  markedly  apart  from  all  the  other  specimens  of 
masculine  youth  her  narrow  horizon  had  so  far  enclosed. 
They  looked  at  her,  the  one  or  two  men  who  passed  her, 
with  the  vague  interest  with  which  one  regards  anything 
in  an  unsuitable  environment,  placing  her,  with  uncon- 
scious cruelty,  accurately  and  unerringly  where  she  be- 
longed, seeing  her  destined  inevitably  to  the  tea-room, 
the  shop,  perchance  the  bar.  What  they  did  not  see 
was  the  girl's  passionate  revolt  against  the  destiny  await- 
ing her.  These,  she  told  herself,  were  her  soul's  kin, 
here  the  medium  in  which  she  could  develop,  the  atmos- 
phere she  could  breathe,  the  people  she  could  love.  Was 
there  no  way,  no  way  of  stepping  from  Canonbury  to 
Curzon  Street? 

For  many  hours  Lilith  sat  and  pondered  that  problem. 
She  had  had  a  bun,  a  glass  of  milk,  and  a  pen'orth  of 
chocolate  in  a  tiny  confectioner's  shop  not  far  from  the 
gates,  and,  to  sixteen,  this  formed  an  efficient  substitute 
for  dinner.  The  tea-things  had  been  washed  up  and  put 
away  long  before  Lilith  reached  home,  but  even  yet  her 
thoughts  satisfied  her  and  she  was  not  hungry.  Her 
mother  met  her  with  just  remonstrance. 

"  My  girl,"  she  said,  "  this  won't  do.  Outin's  is 
outin's  and  meals  is  meals — an'  you'll  come  home  for 
yours.     Where  you  bin  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  Oh,  walking  about,"  said  Lilith  with  drooped  eyes. 

Her  mother  regarded  her  with  a  certain  chill  sus- 
picion behind  which  lurked  an  almost  tragic  anxiety. 

"  The  next  time  you  go  out,  you  take  one  of  your 
sisters  with  you,"  she  advised. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  67 

Lilith  chilled.  How  indulge  her  dreams  of  to-day 
with  Jane  or  Emily  beside  her? — ^Jane,  who  would  audi- 
bly price  dress  materials  and  estimate  furs  as  their  owners 
passed  her;  Emily,  whose  alert  and  roving  eye  would 
challenge  admiration  from  those  whom  she  unconsciously 
but  unerringly  recognised  as  her  social  peers,  the  coach- 
man on  his  box,  the  gardener  whistling  cheerily  at  his 
work  on  a  distant  flower-bed,  the  very  policeman  direct- 
ing the  traffic  in  and  out  of  the  great  gates,  atoms  in 
the  cosmogony  to  Lilith,  automata,  hardly  human,  out- 
side her  scheme  of  life  altogether.  Her  step  dragged  a 
little  as  she  went  upstairs.  Her  mother  turned  away 
with  a  sigh. 

"  I'm  afraid  she's  going  to  want  a  deal  of  looking 
after,  that  gel,"  she  said  in  rather  dreary  forecast. 
"  They  always  go  on — if  they  once  begin.  I  never  had 
no  trouble  wi'  you  two,  but  I  misdoubt  I'm  going  to 
have  trouble  wi'  her." 

"  Don't  give  her  any  money,"  advised  the  practical 
Jane ;  "  then  she  can't  go  off  by  herself  in  this  way." 
But  her  mother  shook  her  head  again. 

"  I  don't  hold  wi'  that,  not  altogether,"  she  said 
slowly.  "  To  keep  a  girl  without  money  doesn't  always 
mean  that  she'll  be  without  it.  There's  ways  of  getting 
money  I'd  just  as  soon  she  shouldn't  find." 

"  Mother ! "  said  Jane  aghast,  "  surely  you  know 
Lilith  better " 

"  Nay,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Somers  quickly ;  "  some- 
times I  think  'at  I  don't  know  her  at  all." 

An  impression  that  the  day  deepened.  Seven  o'clock 
found  the  family  assembled  in  the  basement  room.  The 
two-armed  gas  bracket  flared  cheerfully  over  the  table 
covered  with  a  "  tmion "  cloth  in  squares  of  red  and 
blue.  The  fire,  thriftily  banked  up  with  cinders,  glowed 
hot  and  rosy.  It  was  an  environment  not  wanting  in 
a  certain  homely  comfort.  Jane  was  still  busy  with  the 
manufacture  of  articles  of  doubtful  utility  in  many 
coloured  wools.,    Emily  was  still  reading  novelettes,  but 


68  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

she  had  taken  her  hair  out  of  the  Hinde's  curlers,  and 
put  on  what  her  mother  called  a  decent  gown.  To  be 
sure,  the  putting  on  left  something  to  be  desired.  The 
collar  gaped  at  the  throat  for  want  of  a  hook,  and 
there  was  a  distressing  hiatus  between  skirt  and  waist- 
band at  the  back,  but  it  was  better  than  the  dirty  wrapper. 
Mrs.  Somers  had  arranged  a  collar  of  coarse  string- 
coloured  lace  over  her  purple  flannelette  blouse  as  a  mute 
concession  to  the  fact  that  it  was  "  evenin',''  and  life, 
therefore,  veering  a  little  towards  the  festive,  and  her 
smooth,  dark  head  fairly  glistened  as  it  bent  over  the 
linen  she  was  darning.  The  one  idler  was  Lilith,  but  she 
was  idle  not  from  any  disincHnation  to  be  up  and  doing, 
but  because  there  didn't  seem  anything  just  at  present 
for  her  to  do. 

"  Mother,"  she  said  presently,  "  can't  I  help  you 
darn?" 

But  again  Mrs.  Somers  looked  dubious  and  by  no 
means  encouraging. 

"  I'd  just  as  soon  you  didn't,  Lilith,  my  dear,"  she 
said.  "  I've  always  done  me  own  darnin',  and  though 
my  eyes  are  failin'  a  little,  I'd  like  to  keep  it  in  me  own 
'ands  as  long  as  I  can.  You  get  your  fancy-work,  my 
dear,  an'  do  that.     'Tis  much  more  fittin'." 

So  Lilith  obediently  got  her  fancy-work,  a  "  top  " — 
one  need  not  specify  further — of  crochet-work  almost 
as  fine  as  Irish  lace  and  much  more  durable.  But  some- 
how the  dainty  delicacy  of  the  work,  the  intricacy  of  the 
stitches,  had  lost  something  of  their  flavour.  There  was 
no  Ellen  Druce  now  to  exclaim  at  her  phenomenal  indus- 
try, no  Muriel  with  whom  to  compare  progress.  It  was 
not  long  before  Lilith's  hands  rested  idly  in  her  lap,  and 
her  eyes  widened  wistfully  as  she  stared  steadily  into 
space,  space  which  seemed  to  hold  nothing  but  the  old, 
old  question,  "  Cui  bono  ?  "  And  Emily  was  watching 
her,  Emily,  to  whom  she  was  in  danger  of  being  more 
interesting  than  any  novelette. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  69 

"  Penny  for  your  thoughts,  Lil,"  she  said  suddenly. 
"  What  was  it  all  about  ?     Your  sweetheart  ?  " 

There  are  some  wounds  for  which  silence  is  the 
only  salve.  Lilith  whitened  swiftly,  but  she  said  noth- 
ing.    Her  mother  looked  up,  vaguely  uneasy. 

"  You  let  the  gel  alone,  Em,"  she  said  reprovingly, 
and  Em  laughed. 

But  the  reproof  did  one  good  thing.  It  opened 
Lilith's  eyes  to  potentialities  of  sympathy  in  her  mother. 
The  next  remark  was  the  direct  result  of  her  vague 
realisation  that  she  might,  perhaps,  be  better  compre- 
hended than  she  had  up  to  now  thought  possible. 

"  Mother,"  she  said,  "  couldn't  I  in  some  way  get 
employment?  Learn,  I  mean,  to — to  earn  my  own  liv- 
ing?" But  alas  for  our  hopes  of  rendering  ourselves 
intelligible  even  to  our  nearest  and  dearest.  Mrs.  Som- 
ers  laid  down  her  work,  took  off  her  spectacles,  and 
looked  with  grieved  astonishment  at  her  daughter. 

"  Well,  of  all  the  disappointing  gels ! "  she  said 
mournfully.  "  Not  that  I  ought  to  be  surprised,  either," 
she  went  on  with  dreary  resignation,  "  for  children  are 
about  the  most  disappointing  things  in  this  world,  and 
everybody  knows  it.  Earn  your  own  living?  What 
d'you  think  your  father  toiled  an'  slaved  for  as  he  did, 
Lilith,  if  you're  to  go  out  an'  earn  your  living  after  all? 
Ever  since  we  opened  the  first  little  shop  in  Millington — 
for  we  began  in  the  country,  we  did,  and  in  quite  a 
small  way — he  set  it  before  him.  '  You  shan't  work 
when  you're  old,  Tilly,'  he  used  to  say,  '  an'  the  gels 
shan't  work  at  all.  They  shall  have  an  easier  time  than 
we've  had !  I'll  set  'em  above  that,  anyway ! '  Poor 
father;  I  can  hear  him  now.  And  so  he  did,  saving 
an'  pinching  an'  never  spending  an  unnecessary  penny. 
What  d'you  think  it  was  all  for — if  you're  bent  on  going 
out  after  all  ?  An'  I  helped  him,  I  did.  I  never  minded 
it,  the  pinchin'  an'  screwin'  an'  going  without.  I'd  got 
him  then  an'  you  three  little  uns  round  me,  an'  I  was  as 
'appy  as  a  queen." 


70  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

She  broke  off;  her  voice  had  roughened  a  little, 
for  a  mother's  heart  is  apt  to  yearn  over  the  children 
she  has  loved  and  lost,  lost  in  that  they  have  grown 
into  something  alien  and  strange,  with  unexpected  aspira- 
tions with  which  it  is  difficult  to  sympathise,  and  motives 
that  one  cannot  fathom.  The  grave  has  not  closed  over 
them;  they  may  still  be  sitting  at  her  side,  but  none  the 
less  are  they  gone,  the  children  that  at  one  time  so  richly 
filled  her  life — and  arms  and  heart  are  both  empty. 

"  An'  now  you  want  to  alter  things,"  she  went  on. 
"  Make  it  all — no  use.  Why,  he  might  just  as  well 
have  done  different  if  you  do  that.  Enjoyed  hisself  a 
bit — like  I  begged  him  to,  many  an'  many  a  time!  Eh, 
children ! "  with  an  unconscious  drop  back  into  rural 
Buckinghamshire  where  had  stood  that  first  little  shop. 
"  One  looks  forward  to  them  being  grown  up — an'  then 
one  wishes  they  wasn't." 

Silence  fell,  pensive  and  a  little  chill.  Lilith  stared 
into  it,  an  unwilling  compunction  in  her  eyes.  What 
she  had  said  seemed  insufficient  cause  for  tragedy,  yet 
tragedy  was  with  them.  The  sharp  double-knock  of 
the  postman  dispersed  it.  Jane  plodded  up  the  base- 
ment stairs  and  came  down  with  a  letter  for  her  mother 
in  her  hand.  Mrs.  Somers  put  on  her  spectacles  again 
and  prepared  with  pleased  deliberation  to  read  it.  Let- 
ters, with  the  exception  of  Lilith's  schoolgirl  epistles, 
now  unhappily  ended,  were  rare.  It  took  her  some  time 
to  finish  it,  but  at  last  she  folded  it,  returned  it  to  its 
envelope,  and  spoke  with  deep  satisfaction. 

"  Well,  I  am  glad,"  she  said  cordially.  "  I  haven't 
been  that  pleased  this  long  time.  You  remember  my 
cousin,  Elizabeth,  girls,  the  one  that  married  Farmer 
Watkins  down  to  Water  Stockton?  Well,  their  son 
Alg'non's  been  apprenticed  to  the  grocery ;  you  knew 
that,  didn't  you?  An'  now,  it  seems,  'e's  got  a  situation 
in  a  big  shop  in  Islington;  'e  wants  London  experience, 
they  say.  But  'is  mother  doesn't  care  to  trust  'im  in  a 
big  place  like  London  with  strangers ;  there's  no  knowing 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  71 

what  'ands  'e  might  get  into,  she  says,  an'  she's  right 
there,  though  she  always  was  a  bit  tender  with  Alg'non. 
But  any'ow,  she  wants  us  to  'ave  'im  to  Uve  here.  Six- 
teen shiUings  a  week  she'll  pay  for  'is  board  an'  'is 
bedroom.  I  shan't  make  so  very  much  out  of  it,  of 
course,  but  I  shan't  lose,  an'  I  don't  care  so  long  as  I 
don't  do  that.  I'll  be  glad  to  take  'im.  I've  wanted  a 
man  of  some  sort  in  the  house  this  long  time ;  it'll  do  us 
all  good.  Lilith,  my  dear,  see  if  there's  any  ink  in  that 
bottle,  and  lend  me  some  o'  that  writin'  paper  I  saw  in 
your  room  this  mornin',  an'  I'll  write  now." 

Lilith,  rising  obediently,  fetched  the  writing  paper 
and  her  own  ink,  since  there  proved  to  be  none  in  the 
bottle. 

"  Algernon,"  she  said  to  herself  softly.  "  Algernon 
Watkins!    What  a  name !  " 


XI 


In  the  evening,  about  a  week  later,  he  came.  The 
week  had  been  a  busy  one.  There  had  been  the  Httle 
room  under  the  roof  next  Lilith's  to  clear  of  boxes  and 
lumber,  the  accumulation  of  twelve  long  years.  To 
whitewash,  paint  and  paper  also,  for  Mrs.  Somers,  sturdy 
country-woman,  disdaining  professional  assistance,  had 
done  it  all,  assisted  by  her  three  daughters.  Lilith  had 
enjoyed  herself  immensely,  loading  her  small  person 
with  more  whitewash  than  one  would  have  thought  pos- 
sible, and  quite  forgetting  her  heartbreak  in  the  joy  of  a 
royal  "  clean-up."  There  had  been  furniture  to  "  'namel," 
pillow-cases  to  make,  blankets  to  buy,  curtains  to  put  up, 
ornaments,  standing  about  forlorn  and  unconsidered  in 
corners,  to  collect  and  advance  to  a  useful  and  definite 
position.  So  hard  had  Lilith  worked  in  the  coming 
stranger's  behalf  that  her  feeling  for  him  dipped  deeply 
towards  friendliness. 

"  I  hope  he  will  be  nice,"  she  told  herself,  giving 
a  last  look  round  the  spotless  chamber.  "  Mother's  right, 
it  will  make  a  difference — if  he's  nice." 

And  then — he  came. 

A  fire  had  been  lighted  in  the  drawing-room  in 
honour  of  his  arrival,  and,  translated  to  a  higher  sphere, 
no  one  was  quite  comfortable.  It  was  a  relief  when  a 
long  and  loud  rat-tat,  continued  to  the  verge  of  indecency, 
echoed  through  the  house.  Mrs.  Somers,  Jane  and  Emily 
all  hurried  out  into  the  narrow  tunnel-like  passage  they 
called  "  the  'all,"  and  the  next  thing  Lilith  heard  was  a 
masculine  voice,  light  in  timbre,  pleasant  in  quality,  and 
of  a  quite  astonishing  facetiousness. 

"  Yes,  it's  me,  right  enough,"  it  said.  "  Grown  up 
72 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  73 

a  bit  since  you  saw  me  last,  haven't  I,  Aunt  Matilda? 
Talkin'  of  raisin'  the  roof  and  widenin'  the  doors  down 
at  'ome.  Fact! — they  are!  Now,  then,  girls,  one  at 
once.  Can't  kiss  you  both  together,  you  know.  Here, 
let  me  get  inside,  any'ow." 

"  Go  along  with  you,"  said  Em  with  a  giggle.  "  Who 
talked  about  kissing!  I  must  say  you're  in  time,  Mr. 
Watkins." 

"  Always  was,"  rejoined  Algernon  airily.  "  Born 
ten  minutes  too  soon  an'  kep'  it  up  all  me  life.  But,  I 
say !  You  ain't  goin'  to  call  me  '  Mr.  Watkins,'  are 
you?  Boo — hoo!  I'll  go  'ome  to  me  mother!  "  and  Mr. 
Watkins  wept  aloud.  "  Call  me  Alg'non.  It's  Alg'non  or 
nothing.  Say  you'll  call  me  Alg'non !  "  His  voice,  wail- 
ing absurdly,  ceased  suddenly.  Em's  ecstatic  giggles 
alone  filled  the  silence.  Over  the  shoulders  of  the  three 
women  backing  delightedly  before  him  into  the  room 
he  had  caught  sight  of  Lilith.  Instantly  he  subdued  his 
face  to  an  amazing  gravity.  "  Beg  pardon,  miss,"  he 
said. 

For  a  moment  Lilith  started  at  him,  bewildered  by 
her  mental  somersault.  It  was  a  not  unpleasant  face, 
with  wide-open  blue  eyes  and  a  pretty  mouth,  but  his 
hair  was  carefully  arranged  over  his  forehead  in  a  curl 
not  altogether  innocent  of  pomatum  and  his  suit  was  of 
a  cut  such  as  Lilith  had  never  seen  before.  Shyly,  tenta- 
tively, experimentally,  she  offered  her  hand  and  drew 
it  back  again.  Mr.  Watkins,  still  subdued  to  an  amazing 
gravity,  began  to  wipe  his  upon  his  trouser-leg. 

It  took  a  great  deal  of  wiping.  Dissatisfied  with  the 
potentialities  of  his  trouser-leg,  he  took  up  the  lappet  of 
his  coat  and  pressed  that  into  service  as  a  factor  in 
attaining  the  immaculate  cleanliness  necessary  before  he 
could  venture  to  shake  hands  with  Lilith.  Behind  him 
Jane  and  Emily  were  in  ecstasies  of  amusement  at  the 
pantomime,  even  Mrs.  Somers  was  laughing.  Lilith's 
eyes  blazed  suddenly. 

"  If  you  can't  shake  hands  properly,"  she  said,  and 


74  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

her  voice,  pathetically  childish,  trembled  a  good  deal, 
"  I'd  rather  not  shake  hands  at  all." 

"  An'  she's  right,  Alg'non,"  put  in  her  mother  unex- 
pectedly from  behind.  "  Shake  hands !  What  for,  I'd 
like  to  know.  Kiss  her — same  as  you  did  the  others. 
She's  your  cousin — same  as  they  are." 

Kiss  her!  Kiss  her!  Lilith  stared  at  him,  breath- 
less and  white,  with  a  face  hardening  slowly  to  scorn 
and  eyes  brightening  surely  to  fury.  Kiss  her !  Alg'non 
fell  back  a  step. 

"  I  daren't,"  he  said,  putting  a  finger  in  his  mouth, 
"  I'm  too  shy." 

Mrs.  Somers  laughed  again. 

"  Shy !  Not  you !  "  she  said.  "  Any'ow,  you  won't 
be  long.  Come  'long  upstairs,  Alg'non.  Never  mind 
Lilith ;  she'll  be  friends  all  right  in  a  bit,  an'  I  want  to 
see  'ow  you  like  your  room.  We've  done  our  best  for 
you — but  it's  a  bit  small  an'  very  'igh  up.  But  there, 
you're  young ;  I  don't  suppose  you  mind  stairs  yet ;  an' 
you  won't  be  lonely,  for  Lilith's  next  door." 

"  Jeames !  "  said  Mr.  Watkins  in  a  high  falsetto  to 
an  imaginary  footman.    "  Haw !   Carry  my  bag !  " 

"  Lor' !  "  gasped  Em,  wiping  tears  of  joy  from  her 
eyes,  "  ain't  he  funny  ?  " 

The  tribute  followed  him  upstairs,  but  even  appre- 
ciation as  keen  as  this  failed  a  little  of  its  usual  flavour. 
He  stumbled  on  the  steep  oilcloth-covered  stair,  for  he 
did  not  plainly  see  it.  Before  his  eyes  came  and  went  a 
vividly  coloured  girlish  face,  changing  dreadfully  from 
tentative  friendliness  to  astonished  indignation,  a  pair 
of  bright  eyes  chilling  slowly  from  shy  greeting  to  frosty 
contempt.  What  was  the  matter  with  his  methods  that 
they  had  gone  so  far  agley,  methods  upon  which  he  had 
relied  so  often  to  ingratiate  himself  with  "  the  ladies," 
and  never  yet  found  fail!  If  Em  could  fall  at  once  a 
victim  to  their  undoubted  charm,  why  should  they  prove 
ineffectual  with  Lilith? 

"  Looked  at  me  as  if  I  was  dirt,  she  did,"  he  told 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  75 

himself,  aware  of  wounded  vanity  and  acute  surprise 
in  painful  mixture  in  his  mind.  "  Might  'a  bin  asked  to 
kiss  an  alligator !    'Oo  does  she  think  she  is !  " 

He  agreed  to  everything  Mrs.  Somers  said  with  a 
touch  of  detachment,  admiring  her  arrangements  for 
his  comfort  and  acquiescing  in  all  her  suggestions  as  to 
where  he  should  put  his  hat  and  his  boots  with  the 
readiness  of  a  complete  indifference.  The  good  woman 
sighed  as  she  pattered  downstairs  again. 

"  Never  even  noticed  the  little  shelf  for  his  books 
nor  the  'ang-up  for  'is  Sunday  coat,"  she  said.  "  I  doubt 
'e's  like  all  the  rest  of  'em.  Slave  yourself  to  death  for 
'em,  you  may,  an'  they  never  even  see  what  you've  done." 

Meanwhile  Alg'non  was  washing  the  dust  of  travel 
from  his  hands,  and  to  his  own  surprise  they  trembled 
a  little. 

"  Kiss  her ! "  he  said  gloomily,  and  the  gravity  of  his 
expression  was  of  quite  a  different  quality  from  the 
gravity  with  which  he  had  bewildered  Lilith.  "  Why 
shouldn't  I  kiss  her,  I'd  like  to  know ;  I'm  as  good  as  she 
is ! "  And  then,  clutching  suddenly  at  his  vanishing 
self-confidence  as  he  dried  his  fingers  rapidly  on  his  one 
towel,  "  But  I  will  kiss  her  before  I've  done.  See  if  I 
don't." 

Supper  was  laid  in  the  downstairs  room,  but  though 
he  praised  the  London  bread,  London  butter,  and  London 
ham,  the  Very  Best  at  two  and  eight-pence  a  pound  from 
the  cookshop  round  the  corner,  cut  in  fairy-like  slices  of 
coral  and  cream,  Alg'non  did  not  do  quite  the  justice  to 
it  he  had  himself  expected. 

"  It's  the  change,"  lamented  Mrs.  Somers,  much  dis- 
appointed. "  'Taint  like  country  victuals,  of  course,  an' 
it's  not  surprisin'  if  he  feels  it.  Try  some  o'  that  jam 
tart,  Alg'non;  that's  country,  any'ow,  for  I  made  it  o' 
the  jam  your  dear  mother  sent  me  last  year." 

"  That  minds  me  she's  sent  you  some  more,"  said 
Alg'non,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  protesting 
solemnly  that  it  was  all  delicious,  but  he  couldn't  eat 


76  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

any  more,  no,  not  if  they  lent  him  a  ramrod.  "  Six  of 
gooseberry  an'  plum  an'  one  o'  quince  from  the  tree  at 
the  bottom  of  the  orchard."  Something  unexplained 
checked  the  tale  of  pots.  Suddenly  the  old  quince  tree 
at  the  bottom  of  the  orchard  felt  very  far  away. 
"  Haven't  got  that  in  me  bag,"  he  explained,  sharply 
recovering  his  gaiety.  "  Had  me  Sunday-go-to-meetin' 
things  to  think  of.  Dab  o'  quince  jam  on  me  collar  when 
I  went  to  chapel  Sunday  wouldn't  improve  my  appear- 
ance, would  it,  girls?  No,  that's  coming  in  me  box  by 
the  railway  station  van." 

"  Then  you  do  go  to  chapel,"  said  Jane  interrupting. 
"  Well,  I  am  glad  to  'ear  that,  Alg'non.  I  didn't  know 
that." 

"  Not  know  I  went  to  chapel,"  Algernon's  blue  eyes 
opened  wide.  Not  know  that  he  went  to  chapel,  he ! 
that  had  been  a  leading  light  for  so  long !  "Of  course  I 
do!    Why  shouldn't  I?" 

"  Oh,  there's  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't !  "  Jane's 
tone  was  hastily  conciliatory,  for  Algernon  was  hurt. 
"  Only  some'ow  one  doesn't  picture  anyone,  well,  so  lively 
as  you  are " 

"  Lively !  Why  shouldn't  I  be  lively  ?  "  There  was 
still  a  trace  of  injury  in  his  tone.  "  I've  a  'appy  dispo- 
sition !  "  he  shot  a  quick  look  over  at  Lilith  to  see  how 
she  took  the  interesting  personal  revelation,  "  an'  I've 
been  'appier  since  I  got  religion  than  ever  I  was  before." 

"  Then  you  'ave  got  religion,  Alg'non  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  got  religion."  Alg'non  put  one  arm 
over  the  back  of  his  chair,  and  his  glance,  with  something 
of  challenge  in  it,  swept  round  the  listening  table,  "  Got 
it  two  years  ago  last  June." 

"  Oh,  Alg'non,"  said  Jane  softly,  "  I  am  glad." 

Alg'non  looked  at  her  and  smiled,  and  as  he  smiled 
his  face  changed,  changed  into  something  different  and 
pleasanter.  All  his  uneasy  self-consciousness  dropped 
from  him,  he  forgot  for  the  moment  to  wonder  what 
impression  he  was  making,  to  care  about   making  an 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  77 

impression  at  all.  His  blue  eyes  softened  and  grew 
serious,  the  curve  of  his  mouth  was  gentle,  for  the 
moment  he  really  was  attractive.  Lilith  watched  him  in 
a  surprised  realisation  of  the  fact  that,  had  he  known  of 
it,  would  have  gone  far  in  the  education  of  Mr.  Algernon 
Watkins.  And  as  Lilith  watched  him,  suddenly  he  and 
Jane  shook  hands.  The  clasp  was  close,  cordial,  elo- 
quent of  a  sympathy  whose  foundation  was  dearly 
defined.  Lilith's  lips  fell  apart  as  she  saw  it.  Was  it 
possible  that  what  Alg'non  had  got  two  years  ago  last 
June  was  a  real  and  a  tangible  thing  ?  Jane's  voice  broke 
in  on  her  wondering. 

"  Then  anyway  there's  you  an'  me,  Alg'non,"  she  was 
saying  with  deep  satisfaction.  "  Em !  well,  she  hasn't 
made  up  her  mind  yet,  and  mother " 

"  I'm  too  old,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Somers  with  a 
shake  of  her  dark  head. 

"  Mother,  one's  never  too  old,"  said  Jane,  steadily 
repeating  an  evidently  oft-repeated  argument;  but 
Alg'non  hardly  heard  it.  Other  "  conversions  "  mattered 
more  than  Mrs.  Somers'  just  then. 

"  What  about — 'er  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  hardly  per- 
ceptible jerk  of  his  head  in  the  direction  of  Lilith. 

"  Lilith !  Oh,  Lilith's  been  brought  up  church,"  said 
Jane  quickly. 

Algernon  drew  one  or  two  breaths  a  little  deeper 
than  the  ordinary.  She  had  been  brought  up  church !  It 
explained  much. 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Somers  went  on,  taking  up  the  tale 
as  though  Lilith  had  not  been  present,  "  yes,  her  father 
would  'ave  it  so.  He  was  chapel  himself,  an'  we  brought 
the  other  two  up  chapel  as  well.  But  when  Lilith  came 
he  was  getting  on  in  the  world  an'  'e  set  'is  mind  on 
making  a  lady  of  'er.  'E  was  wrong,  an'  I  knew  it ;  but 
there,  'e  was  set  on  it.  She  was  such  a  pretty  little  thing, 
was  Lilith ;  far  prettier  than  the  other  two,  though  they 
was  nice-looking  childer  enough,  an'  father  was  that  fond 
of  'er  there  was  no  making  'im  be  sensible.  '  I'm  gettin' 


78  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

on  in  th'  world,  Tilda/  'e  said  to  me,  '  an'  we'll  'ave  a 
pretty  little  place  in  the  country  before  we  die,  with  a 
tennis  court  an'  a  'arbour  an'  a  fountain  or  two,  an' 
may  be  a  statue  if  I  can  find  one  goin'  cheap.  An'  Lilith 
must  be  brought  up  so's  she  feels  at  'ome  in  a  place  like 
that,'  'e  ses.  '  Th'  other  two  girls  is  well  enough,  an' 
I  make  no  doubt  they'll  marry  plain  and  well  both  of  'em. 
But  Lilith's  the  child  of  our  old  age  an'  our  better  for- 
tunes, mother,'  'e  ses,  *  and  she  must  have  advantages/ 
So  'e  chose  'er  name  'isself,  which  I  never  liked,  but  'e 
said  it  was  Bible,  so  I  s'posed  it  was  all  right.  An'  'e  'ad 
her  christened  church,  though  I  was  always  against  it; 
and  then,  poor  dear,  when  she  was  only  four  years  old,  'e 
died.  But  I  always  remembered  'is  wishes,  though  'e 
didn't  leave  us  as  well  off  as  he  'oped,  poor  man,  an' 
I've  done  my  best  for  Lilith.  Not  that  I've  'ad  the  return 
I  might  'ave  expected  for  it !  "  and  Mrs.  Somers  took 
a  handkerchief  from  her  reticule  and  wiped  her  eyes. 
"  One  of  your  children's  bound  to  disappoint  you,  so 
folks  say,  an'  when  it  'appens  to  be  the  one  you've  done 
the  most  for " 

"  Mother,"  said  Lilith,  with  white  lips,  "  can't  you 
talk  about  something  else  ?  " 

"  Do  you  play,  Mr.  Watkins  ?  "  asked  Emily,  good- 
naturedly  switching  off  the  conversation  along  another 
track. 

Algernon  looked  darkly  at  her. 

"  Thought  you  wasn't  going  to  call  me  '  Mr.  Wat- 
kins,'  "  he  said. 

"  Well,  Alg'non,  then/'  said  Emily  with  a  giggle. 
"  Can  you  play  ?  " 

"  Play  what  ?  "  asked  Alg'non  still  darkly. 

"  The  pianner." 

"  No,"  returned  Alg'non  with  decision.  "  When  / 
play,  I  play  the  'armonium." 

"  Now  that's  a  pity,"  remarked  Emily,  cheerfully 
refusing  to  be  chilled  by  the  something  in  Algernon's 
manner  clearly  introduced  with  that  intention.     "  Be- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  79 

cause  we've  got  a  planner  and  we  'aven't  got  a 
'armonium." 

*'  I  don't  see,"  remarked  Alg'non,  putting  his  arm 
over  the  back  of  his  chair  again  and  speaking  didac- 
tically, "  I  don't  see  'ow  a  professing  Christian  can  play 
a  planner.  A  'armonium  now,  that's  different.  If  a 
godly  man  wants  to  sing,  it  says  in  the  Bible,  let  'im 
sing  psalms.  If  a  professing  Christian  wants  to  play, 
I  say,  let  him  play  a  'armonium.    It's  altogether  different." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  asked  Lilith  breathlessly.  It  was  the  only 
time  she  had  spoken  except  when  her  mother's  threat- 
ened betrayal  forced  protest  from  her.  But  a  musical 
instrument  in  the  altogether  novel  position  of  expressing, 
to  a  shade,  the  religious  opinions  of  a  performer  there- 
upon was  an  idea  so  novel,  so  filled  with  acute  possibil- 
ties  of  development,  that  she  could  not  resist  her  Inclina- 
tion to  follow  it  up.  Alg'non  looked  at  her,  but  he 
glanced  away  almost  instantly.  Something  in  the  con- 
templation of  Lilith  scattered  his  ideas.  He  was  aware 
that  if  he  wished  to  express  himself  with  his  usual  force 
and  clearness  he  must  look  somewhere  else. 

"Different?"  he  said  crisply,  "why,  of  course  it  is. 
Take  a  violin,  now,"  l)e  went  on,  whilst  a  hushed  table 
waited  on  his  words.  "  There's  an  instrument  one  can't 
be  quite  so  sure  about.  I  don't  think  it's  mentioned  in 
Scripture,  but  one  isn't  certain.  David  talks  about  an 
instrument  of  ten  strings,  an'  that  may  have  been  a  violin 
for  all  we  know,  though  nowadays  I  b'lieve  they've  only 
five.  Harps  an'  trumpets,  well,  they're  safe  enough.  All 
the  angels  play  them.  But  you  can't  picture  an  angel 
playing  a  banjo,  or  a  planner,  can  you,  now?  an'  we'll 
all  be  angels  some  day,  so  why  should  we  bother  to 
learn?" 

"  Why,  indeed  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Somers  softly. 

Emily  blushed  a  little.  She  had  attained  to  a  respect- 
able proficiency  on  an  instrument  that  in  the  light  of 
Mr.  Watklns'  remarks  suddenly  stood  forth  blatantly 
irreligious,  immoral,  pagan,  and  profane.     She  glanced 


80  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

at  Lilith.  How  would  Lilith  take  ideas  so  subversive  and 
revolutionary.  Alg'non's  look  followed  hers — but  it 
wandered  on  to  a  point  beyond  Lilith's  head  and  he  spoke 
to  all  appearance  to  the  wall. 

"  Do  you  play  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  should  just  hear  her/'  answered  her  mother 
with  a  sigh. 

The  sigh  was  faintly  echoed — and  it  was  Alg'non 
who  echoed  it.  For  he  was  aware  that  he  would  very 
much  like  to  hear  her.  There  was  little  hope  of  it  now. 
Suddenly  he  wished  he  hadn't  been  quite  so  definite  in 
his  opinions.  It  was  a  mistake,  really,  to  tell  people  so 
very  decidedly  w^hat  you  thought  until  you  had  first  taken 
a  little  trouble  to  find  out  what  they  thought.  Which 
realisation  ought  to  have  guided  his  feet  past  his  next 
pitfall— but  it  didn't. 

"  Are  you  fond  of  readin',  Alg'non  ?  " 

It  was  Emily  again.  She  spoke  with  a  simper  and  a 
glance  intended  to  be  alluring.  Alg'non  fronted  her, 
conscious  of  shield  and  buckler.  At  the  back  of  them 
glowed  a  touch  of  resentment.  So  much  interest  in  his 
tastes  and  accomplishments  on  so  short  an  acquaintance 
was  unwarranted. 

"  No,"  he  said  with  decision.  "  I  don't  'old  with 
readin'.    Never  did." 

"  There !  "  said  Mrs.  Somers  with  satisfaction.  "  It's 
glad  I  am  to  hear  you  say  that,  Alg'non.  That  gel! — 
she  wastes  hours  an'  hours  over  them  rubbishin'  books, 
an'  I've  talked  an'  talked  till  I'm  tired.  I  wish  you'd 
try  an'  break  'er  of  it  while  you're  'ere,  Alg'non — get 
'er  to  lift  'er  thoughts  a  bit  'igher,  I  mean.  It's  no  use 
me  talkin' — but  p'r'aps  she'd  listen  to  you.' 

But  Algernon  looked  by  no  means  attracted  by  the 
prospect.  If  it  had  been  the  other  one,  now,  with  faults 
to  be  corrected  and  a  mind  to  be  raised ! 

"  She  ought  to  be  able  to  break  'erself  of  a  'abit  like 
that,"  he  said  severely.  "  She's  old  enough !  "  cruellest 
of  cruel   reasons,  was   on  his  tongue  when   his   voice 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  81 

faltered  and  his  ideas  deserted  him.    Lilith's  eyes  were 
on  him,  filled  with  an  interest  that  touched  awe. 

"  Don't  you  read  anything  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  read  me  Bible." 

"  Well,  yes,  of  course.  But  not  anything  else  ?  Not 
Shakespeare  ?  " 

"  Shakespeare !    That's  plays !  " 

"  Yes,  but " 

"Plays!  Theayter  plays,"  with  a  shade  more  empha- 
sis.   "You  wouldn't  have  me  read  them!" 

"  Don't  you — wouldn't  you  go  to  see  one  ?  In  London, 
I  mean,  of  course;  in  the  country  you  couldn't.  But  in 
London." 

"  One  must  draw  the  line  somewhere,"  said  Alg'non 
with  decision,  "  and  I  draw  it  at  theayters.  No,  I 
wouldn't  go  to  see  one,  either  in  London  or  anywhere 
else.  What  is  a  theayter?  The  gate  of  hell,  that's  what 
it  is.    You  won't  find  me  there.    Not  me." 

His  steady  eyes  swept  round  the  table.  That  he  had 
carried  his  audience  with  him  was  gratifyingly  evident. 
All  his  audience,  that  is,  but  one,  one  contemplating  in 
an  almost  awed  silence  the  man  who  could  voluntarily 
empty  his  life  of  so  much.  To  him  music,  that  tongue 
both  of  men  and  of  angels,  was  represented  by  a  har- 
monium; the  wonder  world  of  books  did  not  exist,  the 
fairy  realm  of  drama  was  simply  the  flowery  slopes  that 
led  straight  to  Tophet.  What  communion,  what  fellow- 
ship could  there  be  between  those  to  whom  every  avenue 
down  which  Sympathy  might  have  found  her  way  was 
closed. 

"  Do  you  go  to  the  theayter  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  never  have  been — but  I  mean  to !  " 

Like  a  bombshell  Lilith's  gaze  dropped  at  his  feet. 
Alg'non's  lips  fell  slightly  apart.  He  glanced  helplessly 
across  at  his  hostess.  A  difference  of  opinion  can  be 
overcome  by  argument,  but  frank  mutiny! 

"  Ay,"  said  Mrs.  Somers  with  bitterness,  "  that's 
Lilith.    As  headstrong  an'  wilful  as  ever  a  girl  can  be, 

6 


82  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

she  is.  That's  what  comes  of  makin'  a  lady  of  'er.  That's 
the  end  o'  bringin'  her  up  church." 

Alg'non's  eyes  swept  slowly  towards  the  girl  sitting 
mute  but  determined  opposite,  a  rebel,  alone  and  forlorn, 
against  all  that  constituted  authority  in  her  little  world. 
Vaguely  he  was  aware  that  it  was  an  unfortunate  thing 
for  him  that  one  of  whom  he  could  only  disapprove  with 
every  fibre  of  his  being  should  be  so  bewilderingly 
attractive. 

But  up  in  the  drawing-room  he  recovered  both  his 
self-confidence  and  his  spirits.  His  quips  and  cranks 
were  endless,  and  wreathed  smiles  rewarded  him.  From 
all  but  one.  Lilith  sat  in  a  corner  quiet  and  grim,  alto- 
gether refusing  to  be  either  interested  or  amused,  as 
absolutely  repellent,  as  entirely  disagreeable  as  only  a 
girl  of  sixteen  can  be.  To  Alg'non  her  attitude  was  first 
an  astonishment  and  then  a  grief.  Before  long  it  became 
an  outrage.  Now  one  can  control  an  astonishment  and 
endure  a  grief,  but  an  outrage  can  only  be  resented. 

"  'Oo  does  she  think  she  is  ?  "  inquired  Alg'non  of 
the  portrait  in  oils  of  the  late  Ebenezer  Somers,  who, 
with  blank  blue  eye  and  neck  out  of  drawing,  looked 
down  on  his  progeny  from  over  the  mantelpiece,  and 
getting  no  answer  took  refuge  once  more  in  an  exag- 
gerated humility.  "  Beg  pardon,  miss."  It  was  the 
formula  which  concluded  his  every  endeavour  to  enter- 
tain his  other  three  admiring  relatives.  It  was,  all 
unknown  to  himself,  a  protest  against  a  crying  injustice, 
a  declaration  of  an  entire  equality,  a  passionate  revolt 
again  threatening  and  most  unwelcome  chains  all  rolled 
into  one,  and  before  long  it  roused  Lilith  to  fury.  But 
it  was  a  silent  fury.  Instinctively  Algernon  was  aware 
that  it  was  well  it  should  remain  so.  He  did  not  speak  to 
her  when  he  said  "  Good  night,"  only  drew  his  heels 
together  with  a  click,  made  her  an  exaggerated  bow  indi- 
cating a  depth  of  humility  to  which,  in  his  opinion,  no 
free-born  Briton  could  ever  possibly  descend,  and  re- 
covered  himself  abruptly   with   an   imaginary   crick   in 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  83 

the  back  that  reduced  him  to  hideous  facial  contortions 
and  the  prompt  application  of  an  antimacassar  to  his 
spine. 

"  'Ere,  Alg'non,"  called  Mrs.  Somers  up  the  kitchen 
steps,  "  wait  a  minute,  I  'aven't  given  you  a  candle." 

So  Alg'non  waited  in  the  passage,  where,  all  unknown 
to  them,  the  opinions  of  his  three  cousins  reached  him 
clearly. 

"  Oh,  I  do  like  'im,"  said  Em,  wiping  tears  of  joy 
from  her  eyes  for  the  second  time  that  night.  "  Ain't 
'e  funny!  Won't  he  'liven  us  all  up!  Oh,  I  am  glad 
he's  come." 

And  Algernon  smiled  the  smile  of  complaisance  and 
listened.  There  was  no  reason  why  he  shouldn't  that 
he  could  see.  He  had  been  told  to  stay  in  the  passage 
and  staying  in  the  passage  he  was.  If  the  girls  chose 
to  speak  loud  enough  for  him  to  hear  that  was  their 
look-out. 

"  It  isn't  his  funniness  so  much  as  his  godliness  that 
appeals  to  me,"  said  Jane  quietly  and  quite  unaware  that 
there  was  anything  bizarre  in  this  juxtaposition  of  Mr. 
Watkins'  qualities.  "  I  believe  he's  a  truly  good  young 
man,  in  spite  of  the  way  he  carries  on."  And  that, 
Alg'non  felt,  was  how  he  would  wish  to  be  judged,  and  a 
credit  to  Jane's  powers  of  penetration.  "  What  d'you 
think  of  'im,  Lilith  ?    D'you  like  'im  ?  " 

Algernon's  breath  hung  suspended.  Why  it  should 
be  so  he  could  not  have  told,  but  here  was  the  crux,  indeed 
the  very  touchstone  of  his  success  or  failure,  not  only  as 
a  cousin  but  as  a  man.  Lilith  answered  with  dreadful 
distinctness. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  don't  like  him  at  all.  I  don't 
know,  how  you  can  expect  me  to  like  anyone  so  ill-man- 
nered, so  uneducated,  and  so  vulgar." 

Alg'non  fled  noiselessly  upstairs,  candle  in  hand,  as 
though  he  would  flee  the  horrid  sound  in  his  shrinking 
ears  of  that  unforgettable  reply.  He  closed  his  bedroom 
door  with  a  hand  that  shook,  and  going  over  to  his 


84  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

looking-glass  studied  his  own  face  therein  as  though  he 
had  expected  to  see  something  unfamiliar  and  strange. 

"  Uneducated ! "  he  said  slowly,  staring  with  a 
pathetic  surprise  at  his  faint  reflection  in  the  darkly- 
gleaming  glass.  "  lU-niannered !  Uneducated !  And 
vulgar!    Me!" 


XII 


The  next  day  was  Sunday.  Algernon  slept  late, 
for  he  was  tired,  and  when  he  woke  he  woke  with  a 
sense  of  calamity.  Why  this  should  be  so  he  could  not 
at  first  remember.  His  mental  attitude  was  generally  one 
of  placid  satisfaction ;  lately  it  had  been  touched  by  keen 
expectation  also.  It  was  difficult  at  first  to  realise  the 
reversal  of  his  mental  world  and  quite  impossible  to  accept 
it.    He  got  out  of  bed  with  a  changing  face. 

"  'Oo  does  she  think  she  is  ?  "  he  asked  himself  again. 

But  as  he  dressed  he  began  to  recover  himself. 
October  mornings  are  bright,  sometimes,  even  in  Canon- 
bury,  and  it  was  Sunday  in  London.  The  juxtaposition 
of  the  two  ideas  had  not  yet  had  time  to  suggest  to  him 
all  that  exists  of  desolation  and  dreariness.  To-morrow 
he  would  essay  a  new  world,  untried,  unknown,  and  dark 
with  dreadful  possibilities  of  much  unpleasantness,  but 
to-day  was  a  day  on  which  his  various  gifts,  social, 
musical,  and  intellectual,  might  have  full  play.  Delib- 
erately he  mustered  before  him  for  mental  review  all  that 
went  to  make  up  the  man,  Algernon  Watkins,  and  as  he 
studied  himself  from,  as  it  were,  a  position  outside  him- 
self, slowly  his  face  cleared. 

"  I've  always  been  all  right,"  he  reflected,  half  amazed 
that  there  should  be  need  for  such  reflection  at  all.  "  I'm 
generally  liked  and — and  thought  well  of.  No  one  ever 
'ad  the  idea  that  I  was  vulgar  before,  as  ever  I  heard 
of."  His  hand  jerked  a  little  and  he  cut  his  chin,  for  the 
horrid  word  stung  shrewdly.  "  And  as  for  the  girls, 
why,  I've  always  got  on  with  them."  It  would  be  odd 
indeed,  Mr.  Watkins  reflected,  if  he  couldn't  manage 
to  do  that.    "  Why,  even  with  the  girls  here '* 

He  checked  himself.    There  was  only  one  girl  here. 

85 


86  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

To  a  youth  of  twenty-two,  "  females  " — the  word  is  of 
constant  use  on  Algernon's  social  plane — of  twenty-six 
and  twenty-eight  were  middle-aged. 

"  I  don't  care,"  Algernon  told  himself  hardily,  "  I 
don't  care  what  she  thinks.    'Oo  does  she  think  she  is  ?  " 

Yet  this  new  and  bitter  uncertainty  of  the  entire 
correctness  of  himself  as  a  man  had  extended  itself, 
Algernon  found,  to  his  clothes.  A  doubt  as  to  their  cut, 
their  fit,  their  very  colour  afflicted  him,  and  the  dreadful 
doubt  was  new.  The  necessity  of  putting  them  on,  since 
he  must  put  on  something,  alone  nerved  him  to  get  into 
them.    One  recollection  consoled  him. 

"  I'm  in  London,  any'ow,"  he  told  himself.  "  I'll 
take  a  look  round  to-morrow." 

Lilith  went  downstairs  with  a  smouldering  spark  in 
her  eyes  and  a  mouth  set  stormy.  She  had  looked  for- 
ward to  such  a  different  Algernon,  an  Algernon  with  the 
manners  of  a  circle  into  which  he  had  never  even  glanced 
and  the  stamp  of  a  mental  cultivation  of  which  he  had 
never  even  heard,  an  idealised  and  quite  impossible 
Algernon. 

The  real  Algernon  had  come,  and  the  disappointment 
had  been  heavy.  Her  mother's  greeting  was  unfortunate 
— for  Algernon. 

"  There,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  try  an'  look  a  bit 
pleasanter.  One  'ud  think  with  such  a  nice  young  man 
upstairs  you'd  'a  bin  as  bright  as  a  button  this  morning ; 
I  should  when  I  was  sixteen.  You've  seemed  to  perk  up 
a  bit  this  week,  gettin'  ready  for  'im,  and  'tis  on'y  natural, 
of  course.  Don't  you  go  and  spoil  everything  now  he  is 
here.  He  won't  think  much  of  a  girl  that  comes  down 
of  a  mornin'  looking  as  sulky  as  that." 

"  I  don't  care  what  he  thinks,"  said  Lilith,  and  went 
upstairs  again. 

"  There !  "  said  her  mother  plaintively,  "  there's  a 
gel  for  you." 

Jane  followed  her  after  a  wise  interval.  She  found 
her  in  the  drawing-room,  studying  the  one  or  two  pedes- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  87 

trians,  arrayed  early  in  Sunday  finery,  with  over-bright 
eyes. 

"  Lilith,"  she  said,  putting  a  doubtful  arm  about  the 
girl's  shrinking  shoulders,  '*  try  an'  be  a  better  girl. 
Why  should  you  be  so  bad-tempered  ?  " 

She  waited,  half  dreading  the  scornful  twist  that 
would  take  Lilith's  shoulder  from  her  hold ;  but  it  did  not 
come.  Simple,  homely,  pathetically  plain  as  she  was, 
there  was  something  "  good  "  about  Jane.  Lilith  warmed 
to  it. 

"  I'm  not  bad-tempered,"  she  said  in  a  fierce  whisper ; 
"  I'm  miserable." 

The  clasp  of  her  sister's  arm  tightened. 

"  I  know  what  you  want,  Lilith,"  she  said  softly ; 
"  you  want  religion.  If  you'd  got  religion,  you'd  be  as 
'appy  as  the  day  is  long.    If  only " 

She  broke  off.  Suddenly  all  the  phrases  about  the  foot 
of  the  cross  and  the  fountain  head  became  as  sounding 
brass  and  tinkling  cymbals.  Here  was  an  opportunity — 
and  Jane  was  distressfully  aware  she  was  not  so  equipped 
that  she  could  take  advantage  of  it. 

"  But  how  am  I  to  get  it  ?  "  Lilith  had  drawn  a 
shade,  just  a  shade  nearer.  "  I  never  wanted  it  before — 
but  I  do  now.    At  least,  I  want  something." 

Jane  hesitated.  Oh,  for  something,  who  could  say 
what,  with  which  to  satisfy  the  thirsty  soul  beside  her! 
Jane  offered  the  best  she  had. 

"  You  come  to  chapel  along  with  us  this  morning," 
she  said.  "  Don't  go  off  to  church  all  by  yourself.  You'll 
find  what  you're  seeking  in  chapel.  You'll  learn  the  way, 
Lilith ;  you'll  see  things  plain.  You'll  get  repentance, 
an'  you'll  be  happy." 

"  Shall  I  ?  "  said  Lilith. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Jane  with  conviction.  Had  not  she 
been  satisfied  in  chapel,  and  why  should  what  satisfied 
her  not  satisfy  Lilith?    "Will  you  come,  dear?" 

"  Yes,"  with  a  long  sigh,  "  if  I  can  go  with  you." 


88  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

The  four  young  people  all  went  to  chapel  together, 
Mrs.  Somers  had  the  dinner  to  cook  at  home,  an  arrange- 
ment that  met  with  Algernon's  profound  approval  until 
he  found  that  Lilith,  clinging  tightly  to  Jane's  stout  and 
comfortable  arm,  walked  in  front,  and  Emily  fell  to  his 
lot  as  a  companion  behind.  To  Algernon  such  a  develop- 
ment of  the  situation  was  not  only  a  disappointment,  it 
was  an  outrage  against  nature.  Were  not  Jane  and 
Emily  clearly  designed  for  one  another — and  Lilith  for 
him!  And  even  as  Lilith  visited  her  disappointments 
upon  his  own  most  innocent  head,  so  he  visited  his  upon 
Emily's.  Never  a  quip  or  a  crank  had  Algernon  left  in 
him.  He  walked  to  chapel  plunged  in  unfathomable 
gloom.  In  vain  did  Emily  essay  to  lift  him  out  of  it ; 
he  was  sunk  far  beyond  her  powers  of  haulage,  the 
curious  and  inexplicable  result  of  which  was  that  the 
more  plainly  did  Algernon's  manner  demonstrate  the 
fact  that  it  was  quite  beyond  Emily  to  interest  him  the 
more  desperately  did  Emily  try,  a  state  of  things  which, 
before  they  reached  the  chapel  door,  had  irritated  Mr. 
Watkins  almost  to  frenzy. 

"  Look  here,"  he  remonstrated  at  last,  "  when  you  see 
a  fellow  isn't  feelin'  himself,  can't  you  let  him  alone." 

And  then  Emily,  had  she  only  known  it,  knocked  the 
last  nail  in  the  coffin  of  the  hopes  which,  rosy  and  warm, 
had  lain  with  her  all  night,  for  Emily  wept.  Not  openly, 
but  furtively,  with  a  surreptitious  handkerchief,  and  a 
reddened  nose.  The  sight  moved  Mr.  Watkins  to  nausea. 
He  was  accustomed,  of  course,  to  success  with  "  the 
ladies,"  but  an  abject  surrender  of  this  kind  was  "  beyond 
a  joke."  He  pushed  into  chapel  close  in  Lilith's  wake, 
and  left  Em,  still  sniffing  softly,  in  the  porch. 

It  was  a  plain,  oblong  building,  simply  whitewashed 
and  filled  with  wooden  benches.  At  one  end  was  a  long 
desk  on  which  lay  a  Bible.  A  seat  for  the  pastor  stood 
behind  it,  so  that  he  sat  with  his  back  to  the  wall  and 
his  face  to  his  congregation.     Another  seat  was  below 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  89 

the  desk  holding  the  Bible,  from  which  a  deacon  gave  out 
the  hymns,  and  a  little  to  one  side  stood  that  instrument 
which,  according  to  Algernon,  alone  could  produce  music 
suited  to  the  delectation  of  the  godly,  a  harmonium.  No 
one  had  taken  their  seat  when  the  Somerses  entered. 
People  were  standing  about,  laughing  and  talking ;  their 
behaviour  slightly  scandalised  Lilith  until  she  remembered 
she  was  not  in  church,  after  which  she  was  aware  of  a 
certain  freedom,  frankness,  friendliness  in  the  atmos- 
phere that  was  pleasant,  or  rather  that  would  have  been 
pleasant  but  for  the  dawnings  of  a  fierce  contempt  for 
everybody  there.  They  were  all  "  so  vulgar."  The 
congregation  consisted  mostly  of  small  shop-keepers  and 
assistants  in  shops.  That  was  bad  enough.  But  there 
were  others,  people  who  worked  in  laundries  and  fac- 
tories ;  the  very  woman  who  washed  out  the  chapel  came 
and  shook  hands  with  Jane,  and  would  have  shaken  hands 
with  Lilith,  too,  if  Lilith  hadn't  looked  so  astonished  that 
she  daren't.  But  by  and  by  sounds  could  be  heard  in  a 
little  side-room  communicating  with  the  main  building 
by  a  door.  One  of  the  deacons  went  in  there,  and  the  rest 
began  to  look  more  serious  and  to  slip  one  by  one  into 
their  places.  Soon  the  deacon  came  out  again,  a  little 
thrill  and  rustle  passed  over  the  congregation,  and  a  young 
man  in  a  suit  of  black  broadcloth  bustled  into  the  seat 
with  its  back  to  the  wall,  and  knelt  down,  brisk  and  busi- 
ness-like, to  pray.  Lilith's  eyes  widened  into  amazement. 
Anything  more  unlike  one's  pre-conceived  notions  of  a 
dissenting  minister  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find. 
He  was  tall  and  slender  and  fair,  with  a  heavy  straw- 
coloured  moustache  like  a  cavalry  officer's,  and  straight 
straw-coloured  hair,  worn  rather  long,  that  tumbled  in 
the  most  engaging  fashion  over  his  white  forehead 
directly  he  bent  his  head.  His  private  devotions  did  not 
take  him  long,  and  when  he  had  finished  them  the  deacon 
read  out  the  first  verse  of  a  hymn  and  they  all  stood  up 
to  sing  it.     What  it  was  about  Lilith  had  never  the 


90  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

remotest  idea,  for  something  about  Jane  attracted  her 
attention.  Jane  had  a  pink  flower  in  her  black  hat  and 
a  pink  ribbon  under  the  neat  white  collar  at  the  throat 
of  her  plain  black  jacket.  She  had  a  pink  flush  on  her 
cheeks,  too,  and  the  subtle  suggestion  of  a  little  pink 
glow  all  over  her.  Really,  Lilith  told  herself,  unconscious 
of  the  cruelty  of  her  own  astonishment,  Jane  was  looking 
"  quite  nice."  And  then,  with  a  shock  of  interest,  she 
remembered  why.  That  young  man  in  the  pastor's  desk, 
with  the  straw-coloured  moustache,  the  large  white  hands, 
the  long  black  broad-clothed  legs,  was  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Loveday,  Jane's  sweetheart. 

"  The  prayer  "  had  begun  before  Lilith  got  over  the 
surprise  of  it.  But  her  surprise  had  faded,  every  sensa- 
tion, every  thought,  every  idea  she  had  ever  entertained 
had  faded  into  a  profound  and  overpowering  weariness 
before  that  prayer  was  ended.  On  and  on  and  on  and  on 
it  went,  and  when  it  was  over,  and  an  exhausted  congre- 
gation raised  their  aching  backs,  the  pastor's  sense  of 
achievement  must  have  been  profound.  For  he  "had  estab- 
lished a  record  even  in  chapel  prayers.  By  every  plati- 
tude he  could  call  to  his  mind,  every  commonplace  he 
could  think  of  by  which  he  could  pad  out  the  gist  of  his 
contention,  that  he  and  all  his  hearers  were  miserable 
sinners,  he  had  monopolised  the  attention  of  the  Almighty 
for  thirty-five  solid  minutes  by  the  clock.  Anything  more 
futile  could  scarcely  have  been  imagined ;  anything  in 
the  shape  of  a  prayer  more  utterly  unlike  the  great 
example  upon  which  we  are  supposed  to  frame  our 
prayers  does  not  exist. 

It  left  upon  Lilith's  mind  a  sense  of  insult  offered  not 
to  herself  but  to  God.  What  must  God  think,  she  asked 
herself,  of  a  man  who  could  maunder  into  His  presence 
and  pour  out  a  stream  of  words,  thirty-five  minutes  long, 
the  substance  of  which  could  have  been  given  in  two? 
To  an  earthly  superior  he  would  not  have  dared  to  do  it, 
but  he  had,  and  that  evidently,  a  smug  certainty  that 
God  was  gratified  with  his  performance.    Another  hymn 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  91 

was  sung  in  which  LiHth  found  herself  describing  herself 
as  a  "  rebellious  worm  "  so  often  that  the  repetition  at 
last  afflicted  her  with  a  horrid  and  most  ungodly  impulse 
towards  laughter,  an  impulse  so  strong  that  it  could 
hardly  be  controlled  even  by  her  reluctance  to  hurt  Jane ; 
and  then  came  the  sermon. 

"  Like  as  the  hart  desireth  the  waterbrooks ! " 
With  a  shock  Lilith's  thoughts  flew  backwards.  Once 
again  the  lovely  words  floated  on  a  strain  of  music, 
unearthly  in  its  sweetness,  under  arches  soaring  upwards 
into  the  dim  beauty  of  a  cathedral  roof.  Her  soul 
melted  within  her  to  an  ache  of  vague  desire.  The  voice 
of  the  preacher  roused  her.  With  a  start  she  collected 
her  scattered  faculties.  Did  she  not  seek  that  which 
would  bring  happiness,  and  had  not  Jane  assured  her 
she  would  find  it  in  chapel?  Was  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Loveday  offering  it? 

"  Look  at  the  poor  sinner,  brethren,"  he  was  saying, 
"  fleeing  from  the  wrath  to  come  just  like  the  poor  hart 
flees  from  the  'untsmen  be'ind  'im.  What  does  the  poor 
animal  do  as  he  runs,  brethren?  He  brays — brays  as  he 
goes.  What  do  we  do  as  we  run,  brethren?  We  pray, 
pray  as  hard  as  we  can.  Isn't  that  the  same  thing  ?  And 
where  is  he  fleeing  to  ?  To  the  waterbrooks ;  that's 
what  'e  wants.  The  waterbrooks  that  will  wash  the 
smell  of  'is  'oofs  away.  Where  do  we  flee  to?  To  the 
fountain  filled  with  blood,  that  will  wash  us  clean,  too. 
The  rivers  of  mercy,  truth  and  righteousness,  the  Foun- 
tainhead  itself.  Pore  sinner!  What  does  he  need  when 
he  gets  there?  Mercy,  mercy,  dear  Lord,  is  all  'e  asks. 
Yes,  but  the  king  doesn't  think  of  mercy,  not  when  'e 
goes  'unting  the  'art.  'Unting  is  a  good  old  English 
pastime,  and  the  king  is  very  fond  of  it.  The  king's  a 
nice  gentleman ;  I  would  be  the  last  to  deny  it ;  and  we're 
all  fond  of  'im;  but  Fd  'ave  'im  remember  there's  no 
'unting  in  'Eaven.  They'll  be  a  bit  out  of  it,  'im  and 
'is  courtiers,  there,  if  they  don't  alter.  Sometimes  they're 
a  bit  out  of  it  'ere.    Sometimes  'is  'orse  stops  short,  when 


I 


0«  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

*e  doesn't  look  for  it,  and  over  'is  'ead  'e  goes  into  the 
river.  Isn't  that  like  Pharaoh,  now?  Didn't  he  get 
pitched  into  the  water  when  'e  went  'unting  the  Israelites 
thro'  the  Red  Sea!  What  do  you  think  the  'art  says 
when  'e  sees  'is  enemy  in  the  river  ?  '  Yet  a  little  while, 
and  the  ungodly  shall  be  clean  gone ! '  '  Up,  Lord ;  disap- 
point him  and  cast  him  down ! '  and  '  Behold,  I  have  seen 
my  desire  upon  mine  enemy ! '  That's  what  the  hart  says. 
Do  you  think  the  'art  ever  gets  to  the  waterbrooks? 
Well,  of  course  he  does,  an'  so  shall  we  if  we  do  like  'im, 
run  as  fast  and  as  far  as  we  can.  See  'im  jump,  brethren, 
jump  along  the  narrow  way.  An'  now  'e's  there,  right 
in  the  water.  Streams  of  mercy,  truth,  and  righteousness 
flow  over  'is  'ead.  Oh,  let  us  all  jump,  jump  right  in  same 
as  'e  did.    '  Lord,  wash  us  all  in  the  fountain '  " 

Lilith  heard  no  more.  Hungrily  she  had  sought  the 
spiritual  sustenance  Jane  had  so  certainly  promised  her — 
and  what  was  it?    Husks,  husks,  husks! 

The  sermon  lasted  nearly  an  hour  and  wonderful 
indeed  were  parts  of  it,  but  it  was  all  thrown  away  upon 
Lilith.  Before  her  was  ever  a  picture  of  an  unfortunate 
rider  turning  a  somersault  over  his  horse's  head  into  a 
brook,  the  while  the  'art  turned  upon  the  'illside  to  look  at 
him,  smug  satisfaction  on  his  innocent,  furry  face  and 
the  legend  "  Behold,  I  have  seen  my  desire  upon  mine 
enemy,"  proceeding  out  of  his  mouth.  The  thing  fas- 
cinated her;  her  fingers  itched  for  a  pencil.  She  was 
quivering  all  over  with  the  effort  to  suppress  a  dreadful 
and  ungodly  mirth  when  the  time  came  for  the  closing 
prayer.  Is  it  profane  to  tell  the  plain,  unvarnished  tale 
of  that  amazing  prayer? 

"  Thou,  Lord,  knowest  our  down-sitting  and  our  up- 
rising," the  Rev.  Samuel  Loveday  reminded  the  Deity  he 
had  unintentionally  insulted  quite  often  enough  that 
morning.  "  And  we're  a  good  deal  readier,  some  of  us, 
at  down-sitting  than  at  up-rising,  thou  knowest  that,  too. 
Lord,  and  that  right  well.  There's  a  good  many  of  us 
at  this  moment  sittin'  down  upon  the  road  to  Zion,  and  it 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  93 

doesn't  look  as  though  we  should  ever  get  up  and  go  on 
again.  Come  down,  O  Lord,  come  down — and  give  us 
a  lift.  Pitch  us,  Lord,  stiff-necked,  rebellious,  and  kick- 
ing, into  one  of  thy  wagons  coming  along,  and  get  us 
just  a  little  further  upon  the  road  to  Zion." 

Lilith  heard  no  more.  Jane  "  jogged  "  her  with  an 
admonitory  elbow. 

"  Lilith,"  she  said  severely,  "  you  are  a  wicked  girl." 


XIII 


"  This  is  Lilith,  Mr.  Loveday,  just  come  from 
school." 

"  Good  morning,  miss,"  the  pastor  offered  a  large 
and  rather  damp  hand,  which  he  left  to  Lilith  to  shake. 

"  Whew,  it's  warm,"  he  said,  wiping  a  moist  brow 
with  a  large  handkerchief. 

"  Preachin's  warm  work,"  remarked  Algernon  sen- 
tentiously. 

"  Yes,"  agreed  the  pastor,  "  when  one's  really  the 
channel  of  grace,  like  I  was,  or  I  hope  I  was,  this 
morning." 

He  glanced  at  Lilith  standing  quietly  in  the  back- 
ground. All  the  other  members  of  his  congregation 
were  familiar  to  him;  Lilith  was  a  new  hearer  of  his 
message.  How  had  it  impressed  her?  Algernon  also 
was  a  new  listener,  but  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to  wonder 
how  it  had  impressed  Algernon  until  the  shade  of  doubt 
on  his  fair  face  struck  sharply  on  his  consciousness. 

"  Not  what  I  call  a  very  hearty  service,"  he  re- 
marked, "  not  much  upliftin'  of  soul.  Not  that  /  could 
see." 

"  No,  p'r'aps  not,"  agreed  the  pastor  with  a  sigh. 
"  But  they're  warmer  sometimes — of  an  evenin'." 

"  You'll  come  an'  'ave  a  bit  of  dinner  with  us,  Mr. 
Loveday,  same  as  usual,"  suggested  Jane,  with  a  trace 
of  hurry. 

"  An'  how's  Sister  Sorners  ?  "  said  the  pastor,  turning 
with  a  smile  and  walking  out  of  the  chapel  at  Jane's 
side.  It  was  his  only  acceptance  of  the  invitation,  but 
Jane  evidently  found  it  sufficient.  "  Busy  preparing  one 
of  her  excellent  meals  for  us  hungry  seekers  after  right- 
eousness, eh  ?  " 
04 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  95 

"  It's  roast  leg  o'  lamb,"  said  Jane  blushing  with 
pleasure,  "  an'  a  bit  of  apple  tart  to  follow.  It's  very 
good  of  you,  I'm  sure,  Mr.  Loveday,  to  sit  at  our  table 
and  sanctify  what's  granted  us." 

"  I'm  very  glad  to.  Sister  Jane,"  he  said,  simply. 
"And  who's  the  young  man  behind?"  he  asked  pres- 
ently. 

"  Why,  there  now,  I  never  remembered  to  name 
him,"  said  Jane  with  evident  self-reproach.  Algernon's 
face  lowered  darkly;  he  had  been  acutely  conscious 
of  the  oversight.  "  'E's  our  cousin,  Mr.  Watkins,  come 
up  from  the  country  only  yesterday.  'E'll  sit  under  you, 
Mr.  Loveday,  same  as  the  rest  of  us.  At  least,  I  should 
think  so,"  she  finished. 

"  Church  member?  " 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  And  what  about  your  sister  ?  " 

"Emily?" 

"  No,  the  other  one." 

"  She's  been  brought  up  church,"  said  Jane. 

Pastor  Loveday  shook  his  head. 

"  I  wonder  at  Sister  Somers,"  he  remarked. 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Jane  quickly,  "  we  was  all  against 
it.     But  she  has  not  found  peace,  Mr.  Loveday." 

"  I  'ope  what  I  said  this  morning  may  have  'elped 
her,"  returned  the  pastor  with  a  touch  of  hesitation. 
Algernon's  remark  about  the  absence  of  any  uplifting 
of  soul  had  stung. 

Algernon  behind  snorted  softly.  He  was  walking 
[between  Emily  and  Lilitli  and  had  so  far  taken  no 
)art  in  the  conversation.  Emily  glanced  at  him  with 
eyes  intended  to  be  arch.  "  You're  very  quiet  this  morn- 
ing, Algernon,"  she  said. 

"  I'm  feelin'  thoughtful,"  returned  Algernon  repres- 
sively. 

"  Not  nearly  so  lively  as  you  was  last  night,"  re- 
marked Emily  with  a  touch  of  regret. 


96  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  One  can't  be  always  playing  the  giddy  goat,"  ob- 
served Mr.  Watkins. 

Lilith  said  nothing.  Who  did  she  think  she  was? 
Algernon  inquired  of  himself  tragically,  as  they  walked 
through  the  dusty  London  streets,  more  inexpressibly 
dreary  in  the  Sabbath  stillness  than  on  any  other  day 
of  the  week.  To  walk  home  at  his  side  and  never 
condescend  to  say  to  him  one  single  word !  Who  did  she 
think  she  was? 

It  was  the  same  at  dinner.  The  Reverend  Samuel 
Loveday  carved,  and  showed  a  pathetic  anxiety  that 
Lilith  should  have  what  pleased  her,  but  Algernon 
sat  by  her  side  in  gloomy  silence.  Conversation,  Lilith 
felt,  did  not  reach  its  usual  level,  and  she  was  vaguely 
aware  that  it  was  her  fault.  But  why  this  should  be  so 
she  could  not  tell.  Nor  why  the  Reverend  Samuel 
should  hesitate  in  his  account  of  the  missionary  enterprise 
of  his  brethren,  apologetically  certain  of  her  want  of 
interest ;  nor  why  Algernon  should  say  "  Pardon,  miss !  " 
every  time  the  natural  liveliness  of  his  disposition  was  too 
much  for  him  and  nearly  betrayed  him  into  a  joke. 
These  were  her  relatives  and  she  wanted  to  "  be  friends  " 
with  them.  Why  did  she  find  it  so  difficult?  Was  it 
because  she  found  it  so  difficult  that  unwonted  silences 
fell,  damp  and  chill,  over  the  usually  cheerful  dinner 
table,  and  Algernon  looked  gloomy  and  the  Reverend 
Samuel  uncomfortable? 

Dinner  was  nearly  over,  the  apple  tart  had  been  done 
full  justice  to  and  everybody  was  eating  cheese  with 
their  knives  when  the  Reverend  Samuel  made  a  deter- 
mined effort  to  reach  his  usual  Sabbath  serenity  by  ask- 
ing if  Algernon  was  a  regular  attender  at  the  Water 
Stockton  chapel.     Jane  answered  for  him. 

"  Of  course  he  is.  Speak  sometimes,  don't  you, 
Algernon  ?  " 

"  Ho,  yes,"  said  Algernon  loftily,  and  for  the  unex- 
pected aspirate  Lilith  was  subtly  aware  she  was  directly 
responsible. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  97 

"  Ay,  I  remember/'  said  Mrs.  Somers  with  a  sigh, 
"you've  the  gift,  'aven't  you,  Algernon?  They  always 
told  me  that  ever  since  you  was  quite  little." 

"What  gift?"  asked  Lilith. 

Algernon  turned  his  eyes  but  not  his  head  in  her 
direction,  and  the  effect  was  bizarre. 

"  The  gift  of  speaking,  of  course,"  he  said  tersely. 

"Do  you  mean  you  preach?"  asked  Emily. 

"  And  why  shouldn't  I  ?  "  demanded  Algernon  bris- 
tling all  over.  "  Of  course  I  preach,  as  well  as  a  good 
many  and  better  than  some.  Why,  there's  Jabez  North 
down  to  Water  Stockton,  'e  preaches.  Preached  at  the 
United  Meeting  a  fortnight  ago,  'e  did,  an'  he's  fancied 
himself  so  that  'e  puts  'is  'at  on  with  a  shoe-horn  ever 
since." 

Lilith's  eyes  widened  and  fixed  themselves  with  an 
almost  awed  interest  on  Algernon.  Preach!  He! 
Something  in  their  bright  and  steady  regard  pierced 
the  armour  of  Mr.  Watkins'  vanity,  quickened  his  per- 
ceptions, aided  by  a  tumult  of  feeling  quite  novel,  acutely 
painful  and  altogether  subversive  of  his  previously 
accepted  ideas  as  to  himself  and  his  mental  world,  even 
enabled  him  lo  partly  divine  what  was  passing  in  the 
mind  of  another. 

"  There's  some,"  he  went  on,  staring  at  the  wa;ll 
opposite,  "  that  think  that  before  a  man  can  preach 
he  ought  to  be  educated  special  for  it,  study  Latin  and 
Greek  and  such  like,  like  the  Reverend  Samuel  there. 
'E's  bin  to  a  theological  college.  'E's  bin  educated 
special  for  it.  But  'e's  takin'  it  up  reg'lar,  an'  Pm  not. 
Fm  going  to  be  a  grocer,  I  am."  To  Lilith's  astonish- 
ment it  was  clear  that  the  prospect  was  one  he  viewed 
[not  only  with  pleasure  but  with  pride.  "  Pm  going  to 
,'ave  my  own  shop  in  Millington  when  Pve  seen  a  bit  of 
[life  in  London  and  learnt  London  ways.  But  that's  no 
reason  why  I  shouldn't  say  a  word  in  season  sometimes, 
when  I  feel  the  call.  An'  for  that  sort  o'  preachin'  I 
[don't  'old  with  too  much  education,  I  don't.  When  it 
7 


98  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

comes  to  plain  talking  to  plain  folk  education's  a  snare 
and  a  stumbling  block.     A  man's  better  without  it." 

"Oh/'  said  Lilith. 

The  one  shocked  monosyllable  had  been  her  sole 
contribution.  Algernon  pushed  back  his  chair,  and 
sombrely  regarded  her. 

"  Do  you  think  it  matters  to  the  Lord,"  he  asked, 
"  whether  the  man  that  gives  his  message  is  educated 
or  he  isn't?  The  Lord  can  give  good  gruel  out  of  a 
cracked  basin — if  He  likes." 

The  simile  was  homely,  but  it  had  a  certain  rough 
force  about  it  and  Lilith  forbore  to  smile. 

"  But,"  she  said  breathlessly,  "  you  are  going  to  be 
a  grocer.     What  do  you  want  to  preach  for  ?  " 

Algernon's  blue  eyes  opened.  Here  was  ignorance 
indeed. 

"  To  save  souls,"  he  answered  sombrely.  "  Every 
day  since  I  was  a  nipper  I've  prayed  the  same  prayer. 
'  Lord,  let  me  save  souls,'  I've  asked." 

However  unexpected  its  appearance,  however  alien 
and  strange  its  presentment,  earnestness  appeals.  And 
there  was  genuine  and  unmistakable  earnestness  in  the 
slight  roughening  of  Algernon's  voice,  in  the  unwinking 
challenge  of  his  blue  eyes.  Lilith  was  aware  of  a  sudden 
and  inexplicable  softening  towards  him,  "  vulgar  "  as  he 
was,  the  same  softening  she  had  been  conscious  of  when 
he  and  Jane  had  so  cordially  shaken  hands  at  supper  the 
night  before,  moved  thereto  by  the  common  possession 
of  something  the  existence  whereof  had,  so  far,  escaped 
her  powers  of  discovery.  Her  face  changed.  The  look 
of  weary  distaste  faded  out  of  her  eyes. 

"  It's  something,"  she  said  softly,  "  to  have  an  aim 
like  that." 

But  her  expression  altered.  Suddenly  the  glaring 
incongruity  between  Algernon's  equipment  and  preten- 
sions was  too  much  for  her.  Her  eyes  hardened  and 
brightened   swiftly,    cruelly,   into   mirth.        Save    souls! 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  99 

How  would  he  try  to  do  it?  By  the  sort  of  thing  she 
had  heard  that  morning? 

Her  mother  rose,  scenting  trouble. 

"  There,"  she  said  briskly.  "  I  think  we've  done.  If 
you'll  say  Grace,  Mr.  Loveday,  you  an'  Alg'non  had 
better  go  upstairs  an'  leave  me  an'  the  gels  to  clear  up." 

They  went  obediently.  A  fire  had  been  lighted,  for 
the  October  day  was  crisp,  and  its  rays  played  cheerfully 
over  the  chill  black  and  white  of  horsehair  and  antimacas- 
sars. For  some  few  moments  the  clash  of  crockery 
downstairs  filled  the  silence.  The  Reverend  Samuel 
broke  it. 

"  Sweet  little  girl,  isn't  she,  that  sister  come  home 
from  school  ?  " 

Alg'non  turned  on  him,  and  for  the  moment  his  blue 
eyes  were  dangerous. 

"Sweet!"  he  echoed,  "sweet!  I  don't  find  her 
sweet,  not  me!  I  don't  like  her,"  striking  a  match  to 
light  his  cigarette  with  a  hand  that  shook.  "  She's  too 
superior  for  me,"  puffing  viciously.  "  Damn  superior ! 
That's  what  she  is." 


XIV 


LiLiTH  went  no  more  to  chapel.  To  the  Reverend 
Samuel's  pleading  looks  she  turned  a  repellent  shoulder 
and  to  Jane's  entreaties  a  deaf  ear. 

"  I  daresay  there  is  something  in  it,"  she  magnani- 
mously allowed ;  "  there  must  be,  because  it  makes  you 
not  only  happy  but  good,  Jane.  But  I  should  never 
find  it.  /  don't  know  what  is  the  matter  with  me,  but 
something  is.  I  can't  be  made  like  other  people,  some- 
how." 

"  It's  a  change  of  heart  you're  wanting,  Lilith,"  Jane 
told  her,  "  and  how  you're  going  to  get  it  if  you  won't 
come  to  chapel " 

"  I  shan't  get  it  at  your  chapel,"  declared  Lilith,  with 
cruel  candour. 

Jane  looked  hurt.  She  was  a  devout  believer  in  her 
own  special  little  brand  of  Christianity,  and  allowed 
no  other. 

"  Well,  at  least,  we  can  all  pray  for  you,  Lilith,"  she 
said. 

After  which  the  girl  allowed  it  to  be  plainly  under- 
stood not  only  that  she  did  not  intend,  but  that  she  did 
not  wish  to  be  "  good."  Her  manner  altered  for  the 
worse,  a  subtle  difference  made  itself  felt  in  her  very 
clothes.  She  turned  her  hat  up  rakishly  in  front  and 
fastened  it  with  a  daring  scarlet  rosette.  She  wore  her 
dress  shorter  in  the  skirt  and  lower  in  the  neck,  and 
twisted  sham  pearls  about  her  pretty  throat.  She  bought 
herself  a  pair  of  high-heeled  shoes  that  were  an  outrage 
on  the  anatomy  of  the  human  foot,  and  even  dared  sur- 
reptitiously to  invest  in  a  tiny  pot  of  pondre-d' amour  and 
a  tinier  puflf  with  which  to  apply  it.  Her  mother  watched 
her  silently,  and  her  quiet  "  Let  the  gel  alone,"  kept  the 
100 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  101 

others  silent  also.  But  Algernon  went  about  aggres- 
sively indifferent,  Emily  laughed,  and  Jane  was  grieved. 

"  Can't  we  do  anything  for  her,  Mr.  Loveday  ?  "  she 
would  ask  sometimes.  Sam  Loveday  sighed.  One  way 
of  "  saving "  her  had  certainly  occurred  to  him,  but  it 
was  not  a  way  he  could  confide  to  Jane. 

And  once  again  Lilith  took  to  long  and  solitary 
rambles.  Her  pilgrimages  were  always  westward,  but 
not  for  worlds  would  she  have  had  her  family  suspect 
it.  Her  unwillingness  to  give  any  account  of  her  wan- 
derings awoke  a  thousand  misgivings  in  her  mother's 
anxious  heart.  One  afternoon  she  stopped  her  youngest 
daughter  in  the  dark  and  narrow  little  tunnel  they  called 
"  the  'all."  Lilith  was  dressed  for  walking,  and  it  was 
well  that  in  the  dimness  the  details  of  her  toilet  escaped 
her  mother's  observation. 

"  Where  you  goin',  my  girl  ?  "  she  inquired,  mildly. 

"  Oh,  out,"  answered  Lilith. 

Her  mother  pondered  the  reply,  it  was  deeply  unsatis- 
factory. 

"  Look  here,"  she  said,  with  sudden  decision,  "  I 
won't  'ave  it.  If  you  want  to  go  out  take  one  of  your 
sisters  with  you." 

The  smouldering  spark  in  Lilith 's  eyes  blazed  up. 

"HI  have  to  go  out  with  Jane  or  Emily,  I  won't  go 
at  all,"  she  said. 

"  An'  why  not,  Lilith  ?  "  asked  her  mother,  after  a 
distressed  pause.  "  Where  do  you  go?  What  do  you 
do,  my  gel,  that  you  don't  want  your  sisters  to  see  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Lilith,  passionately.  "  Where 
should  I  go?  What  should  I  do,  mother?  I  only  want 
to  be  by  myself !  " 

Someone  slipped  a  substantial  arm  round  poor  Mrs. 
Somers'  waist.  It  was  Jane,  Jane  with  the  light  of  a 
dim  comprehension  dawning  in  her  eyes. 

"  Let  'er  go,  mother,"  she  said ;  "  I  don't  think  she's 
after  any 'arm.  You  wouldn't,  would  you,  Lilith?  You're 
a  good  girl  at  the  bottom,  aren't  you,  Lilith  ?  " 


102  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

""Why,  what  does  mother  think  rm  likely  to  do?" 
demanded  Lilith,  and  banged  the  door  and  ran  down  the 
carefully-whitened  steps,  her  stormy  eyes  wet  and  her 
bitter  mouth  quivering, 

Mrs,  Somers  turned  and  rested  her  forehead  a 
moment  on  Jane's  kind  shoulder, 

"  Oh,  Jane,  I  misdoubt  me  she's  after  no  good,"  she 
said,  brokenly. 

The  clasp  of  Jane's  kind  arm  tightened. 

"  Don't  you  fret  yourself,  mother,  she's  all  right," 
she  said.  "  It's  just  that  she  doesn't  quite  take  to  me 
and  Em'ly ;  we're  not  quite  her  sort,  you  see.  But  she'll 
come  to  no  'arm,  mother.  She's  a  good  girl  at  the 
bottom,  is  Lilith." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  her  mother,  with  a  sigh  that 
was  half  a  sob.  "  I  wish  I  could  take  things  as  you 
do,  Jane — ^but  I  can't.  If  once  a  girl  begins  she  always 
goes  on," 

If  Jane  could  have  seen  her  "  little  sister  "  half  an 
hour  later,  even  her  kindly  optimism  might  have  for- 
saken her.  Lilith  took  a  'bus  to  Hyde  Park  Corner,  and 
for  some  little  time  walked  beside  the  banked-up  flower- 
beds, still  glowing  with  dahlia  and  sunflower,  absorbed 
in  the  contemplation  of  her  own  unhappiness.  Would 
life  go  on  like  this  ?  Was  it  to  be  nothing  but  a  succes- 
sion of  grey  and  empty  days,  without  satisfaction  and 
without  succour?  Was  there  no  one,  anywhere,  who 
would  do  for  her  what  Ralph  Mansfield  had  done  for  her, 
lift  the  corner  of  the  curtain  that  hung  between  her  and 
the  world  in  which  she  could  really  live? — give  her  an- 
other tiny  glimpse  of  the  existence  for  which  she  craved, 
an  existence  in  which  might  be  found  women  like  Lady 
Nora  and  men  like  her  son?  Here,  at  least,  she  could 
from  a  distance  behold  them.  The  young  man  who 
passed  her  at  the  moment,  a  young  man  in  a  suit  of 
palest  grey,  every  faultless  line  of  which  cried  Bond 
Street  even  in  Lilith's  unattuned  ear,  a  young  man  who 
had  a  spray  of  Parma  violets  in  his  button-hole  and  car- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  103 

ried  gloves  of  the  same  hue  in  his  well-kept  hand,  whose 
glossy  hat  winked  at  the  setting  sun  and  whose  silver- 
headed  cane  tapped  lightly  every  now  and  then  against 
the  neatest  and  daintiest  of  masculine  boots,  he  carried 
his  head,  set  down  his  foot,  even  looked  at  Lilith  as  she 
passed  him — as  had  Ralph  Mansfield.  There  was  a 
subtle  pleasure  even  in  passing  him,  a  flavour  of  adven- 
ture, bristling  with  innocent  and  exquisite  possibilities. 
To  the  searcher  after  adventure,  adventure  comes.  It 
was  not  the  first  time  she  had  passed  him.  The  realisa- 
tion brought  a  rush  of  loveliest  colour  all  over  Lilith's 
face.  She  turned  at  the  end  of  the  walk  and  came 
slowly  back  again.  When  she  saw  that  the  young  man 
had  also  turned  and  was  deliberately  walking  towards 
her,  that  he  might  pass  her  again,  a  sudden  shock  and 
tremor  passed  over  her  that  brought  a  curious  whiteness 
round  her  lips  and  took  the  strength  out  of  her  knees. 
A  chair  was  near  her,  turned  the  right  way  up.  Lilith 
sat  down  upon  it,  grateful  for  the  support.  When  the 
young  man  came  back  once  more  from  the  end  of  the 
stretch  of  gravel  on  which  he  had  elected  to  promenade, 
he  deliberately  turned  another  chair  the  right  way  up  and 
sat  down  beside  her. 

Lilith  thrilled  all  over.  Had  she  been  able  she  would 
have  risen  at  once  and  left  him,  but  she  trembled  so 
exceedingly  that  it  seemed  wisdom  to  wait.  Whether 
she  were  waiting  for  the  calmness  that  would  enable  her 
"to  rise  easily  and  walk  naturally,  or  for  the  next  develop- 
ment in  what  was  already  a  situation,  Lilith  could  not 
have  told.  But  of  one  thing  she  was  aware,  that  she 
longed  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  young  man  with  the 
Parma  violets  in  his  button-hole,  the  voice  that  would  be 
like  Ralph  Mansfield's.  Subtle,  indeed,  are  the  in- 
fluences of  sex.  The  young  man  glanced  with  a  shade 
of  doubt  at  the  hands,  in  black  silk  gloves  neatly  mended 
at  the  finger-tips,  lying  twisted  together  and  visibly 
trembling  in  Lilith's  lap,  noted  something  aloof  and  vir- 
ginal, purely  proud,  in  the  girlish  face — and  hesitated. 


10*  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

And  the  next  moment  the  soup<;on  of  poudre-d' amour 
disfiguring  the  exquisite  tintings  of  Lilith's  complexion, 
the  daringly  turned-up  hat-brim  with  its  aggressive  scar- 
let rosette,  more  than  all  the  subtle  sense  that  she  was 
waiting  for  his  voice,  decided  him.  He  leant  forward, 
his  delicate  gloves  and  his  dainty  cane  between  his  two 
well-kept  brown  hands,  and  spoke. 

"  Lovely  afternoon,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Never,  surely,  was  remark  so  banal  so  received  be- 
fore. The  voice  indeed  was  not,  but  the  inflection,  the 
accent,  the  very  turn  of  the  head  that  accompanied 
them  were  those  of  Ralph  Mansfield.  Failing  altogether 
to  understand  how  entirely  vicarious  and  impersonal  was 
the  rapture  in  Lilith's  eyes,  the  young  man  told  himself 
he  had  been  a  fool  to  hesitate. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lilith,  in  return. 

The  young  man  glanced  at  her  again.  He  had  ex- 
pected a  little  more  than  one  monosyllable,  and  he  had 
not  expected  the  note  on  which  it  came.  To  a  discrim- 
inating ear  one  word  will  say  many  things.  But  they 
were  still  there,  the  soupQon  of  powder,  the  scarlet 
rosette,  the  impossible  high-heeled  shoe,  the  short  skirts, 
the  sham  pearls,  to  bolster  up  his  waning  confidence. 
He  turned  a  little  more  decidedly  in  Lilith's  direction 
and  smiled. 

"  Do  you  often  walk  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Sometimes,  not  often." 

"Once  or  twice  a  week?"  his  smiling  face  yet  a 
little  more  fully  turned  to  hers. 

"  Not  so  often — as  that.  I  have  only  been  here — 
twice  before,"  her  look  half  averted  and  vaguely  troubled. 

"  Then  that's  very  funny,  for  I  saw  you  both  times." 

It  was  more  a  suspicion  than  a  certainty,  for  all  the 
confidence  with  which  the  statement  was  made.  He 
proceeded  to  still  further  amplify  details,  with  even 
less  excuse. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  came  here  this  afternoon 
hoping  I  might  see  you  again,  you  know." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  105 

The  rush  of  lovely  carmine  all  over  Lilith's  face 
checked  him,  caused  him  a  vague  surprise,  left  him 
conscious  of  a  curious  indecision.  Was  he  making  a 
mistake  after  all?  He  had  been  about  to  suggest 
that  she  had  been  actuated  by  the  self-same  desire,  but 
that  was  suddenly  impossible. 

"Do  you  always  walk  by  yourself?"  he  inquired. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lilith  again. 

"  Why  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  quick  look. 

"  Because — ^there's  no  one  else  I  care  to  walk  with, 
I — I'm  very  lonely." 

The  statement  thrilled  with  simple  pathos,  even 
though  it  were  but  the  pathos  of  self-pity.  It  touched 
her  hearer,  and  that  most  unexpectedly.  He  sat  back 
in  his  chair  aware  of  acute  sympathy. 

"  By  jove,  so  am  I,"  he  said. 

The  fact  was  sufficient.  It  established  a  common 
interest  and  a  common  suffering.  Instinctively  Lilith 
turned  her  full  face  towards  him,  giving  him  for  the 
first  time  her  eyes.  He  drew  his  chair  almost  uncon- 
sciously a  little  nearer  on  the  gravel. 

"  It  seems  a  pity  we  should  both  of  us  be  lonely, 
doesn't  it?" 

There  was  a  quick  challenge  in  his  bold  and  smiling 
eyes  but  nothing  in  Lilith's  look  answered  it.  She 
dropped  her  eyelids  and  shrank  a  little. 

"  I — I  don't  see  how  we  can  help  it,"  she  said. 

For  some  few  moments  he  pondered  that  reply.  Was 
it  deliberately  provocative?  He  glanced  again  at  the 
childish  face,  with  its  plaintively  curved  mouth  and 
lowered  eyes.  No,  it  was  a  simple  statement  of  fact. 
She  didn't  see  how  they  could  help  it. 

"  But  I  do,"  he  said,  and  the  laugh  in  his  blue  eyes 
brightened.  "  Because — if  we  spent  the  evening  to- 
gether, you  know,  we  shouldn't  be  lonely." 

"Together?"  said  Lilith,  faintly.  Yet  the  proposal 
did  not  shock  her  as  it  would  have  shocked  her  before 
she  had  spent  that  never-to-be-forgotten  afternoon  with 


106  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Ralph  Mansfield.  She  had  thrown  convention  to  the 
winds  once  before,  and  the  remembrance  of  that  blissful 
indiscretion  lay  bitter-sweet  about  her  heart.  It  had 
been  her  one  experience  of  things  forbidden,  hedged 
about  with  warning,  darkly  shadowed  by  possibilities  of 
peril  none  the  less  awful  that  it  was  vague.  Yet  it  lay 
in  her  memory  rosy  as  a  sunset  cloud,  pure  as  a  pearL 
If  her  first  eager  draught  of  the  sweets  of  life's  follies 
had  left  no  bitter  taste  behind  it  why  not  essay  a  second? 
To  look  at,  her  companion  of  this  afternoon  was  even 
as  Ralph  Mansfield.  He  leant  forward  eagerly.  The 
girl  had  been  charming  to  look  at,  but  her  conversation, 
simple,  almost  childish  as  it  was,  was  of  an  indescribable 
piquancy.  It  promised  what  he  had  not  dared  to  hope 
for,  an  experience  entirely  novel.  His  little  histoires 
d'amoiir  had  repeated  themselves  so  often  and  always  to 
the  same  pattern.  There  was  about  this  one  the  possi- 
bility of  an  exquisite  individuality. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  rapidly ;  "  why  shouldn't  we  ?  We 
are  both  of  us  miserable  by  ourselves — but  we  shouldn't 

be  miserable  together!     Suppose  we !    What's  your 

name,  child  ?  " 

"  Lilith." 

"  Lilith !  "  the  young  man  leant  back  in  his  seat  with 
an  odd  laugh.     "  Damned  appropriate." 

Lilith  shrank  a  little,  vaguely  chilled  and  oddly 
frightened.  In  a  Nonconformist  atmosphere  the  easy 
"  Damn  "  of  the  worldling  is  the  mark  of  the  beast  in- 
deed, but  it  was  not  that  alone  that  had  frightened  Lilith. 
She  did  not  know  that  his  manner  was  detestable,  but 
she  did  know  that  it  was  not  the  manner  of  Ralph  Mans- 
field. The  stranger  went  on  and  his  eyes  had  warmed  a 
little. 

"  My  name's  Cyril ;  we  needn't  bother  about  sur- 
names, need  we?  What  d'you  say,  then,  Lilith,  to  a 
nice  little  dinner  in  a  restaurant,  and  then  go  to  the 
theatre    somewhere?    Or   a   music-hall,   perhaps?    Do 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  107 

you  like  music-halls  ?  "  reflecting  rapidly  that  "  the  girl's 
get-up  "  would  attract  less  notice  there  than  in  a  theatre. 

"  I've — never  been,"  said  Lilith,  shyly. 

Cyril  sat  straight  up.  "  Never — ^you've  never  been 
to  a  music-hall  ?  " 

"  Never." 

"  But  you've  been  to  a  theatre  ?  " 

"  No." 

For  a  moment  Cyril  stared  at  her.  Suddenly  he 
laughed. 

''  Don't  tell  me  lies,  my  dear,"  he  said,  easily. 
"  Where  is  the  use  of  it?  " 

"  But  I  haven't,"  said  Lilith  again,  and  truth  eternal 
shone  in  her  changing  eyes.     "  I — I  never  might." 

"  But  " — with  a  shade  less  assurance — "  you'll  go  with 
me  to-night  ?  " 

Lilith  twisted  her  hands  hard  together  and  leant  for- 
ward, all  her  starved  instincts  for  brightness  and  beauty 
awake.  Surely,  surely  that  way  Happiness  lay.  Whence 
came  the  breath  of  doubt,  the  hint  of  danger,  the  certainty 
that  happiness  could  never  be  reached  by  the  treading 
of  doubtful  ways? 

"  Oh,  I  would  like,"  she  breathed.  "  I  do  so  long 
for — for  something  different,  something  pretty,  something 
I  should  really  enjoy.  But  it  would  be — ^very  late, 
wouldn't  it?" 

"Late!"  echoed  Cyril  blankly,  and  again  "Late!" 

"  I  mean — I  shouldn't  get  home  till  nearly  midnight," 
faltered  Lilith.  "  I  would  love  to  go.  Oh,  I  would 
love  to  go.     But  I'm  afraid,  I'm  sitre  I  can't !  " 

"Can't?     Why  not?" 

"  I — I  wouldn't  like  to  really  grieve  mother." 

Cyril  dropped  suddenly  back  in  his  chair.  One  of 
his  lavender  gloves  fell  from  his  relaxing  fingers  on- 
to the  gravel,  but  he  never  noticed  it. 

"Have  you  got  a  mother?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  And  is  she — a  good  mother?  " 


108  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  with  sudden  belated  understanding. 
"  I — I  wouldn't  like  to  really  vex  her.  I  wouldn't  for 
the  world." 

"  Where  do  you  live?  "  inquired  Cyril,  and  there  was 
an  indescribable  alteration  in  his  voice. 

"  In  Canonbury,  17,  Calthorpe  Road." 

He  rose,  picked  up  his  glove,  absently  dusted  a  speck 
from  his  trouser-leg,  glanced  quickly  at  Lilith,  and 
quickly  away  again.  Poor  little  starved  soul,  skirting 
the  edge  of  unknown  abysses  in  its  blind  wanderings 
after  joy !  How  nearly,  how  nearly  had  he  given  her 
the  little  touch  that  would  have  sent  her  over  the  edge. 

"  Look  here,  child,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was  brus- 
que and  cold,  "  it's  getting  dark.  It's  time  you  went 
home." 

Lilith  rose,  too,  a.  little  reluctantly. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  with  a  faint  sigh,  "  I  suppose  it  is." 

And  then  realisation  rushed  over  her.  She  was  los- 
ing in  some  inexplicable  way  this  new  friend,  this  link, 
so  newly  formed,  so  nearly  welded,  between  herself  and 
the  world  in  which  walked  Ralph  Mansfield.  Tragedy 
loomed  in  her  eyes. 

"  Have  I — offended  you  in  any  way  ?  Were  you 
vexed  because  I — couldn't  go  to  the  theatre  ?  " 

"  Vexed!  Good  God,  no.  Come,  I'll  take  you  home. 
Then  I  shall  know  you  get  there  safely." 

Vexed!  He  was  vexed  with  himself  for  the  inex- 
cusable mistake  he  had  made.  And  yet  he  told  himself, 
glancing  at  her  as  they  walked  towards  the  gates,  the 
mistake  was  not  inexcusable.  And  he  would  do  his  best 
to  atone  for  it,  even  though  the  girl,  happily,  was  un- 
aware that  he  had  anything  for  which  to  atone.  A  crawl- 
ing hansom  was  near  the  gate.  He  handed  Lilith  into 
it  with  a  touch  of  ceremony  that  vaguely  chilled  her. 
And  all  the  way  to  Canonbury  he  spoke  only  once. 

"  Tell  me  when  we  get  to  the  corner  of  your  street," 
he  said. 

Lilith  told  him  obediently,  though  it  was  difficult  to 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  109 

speak.  The  cab  stopped,  and  he  handed  her  out  with  a 
deference  that  to  Lilith's  ignorance  suggested  dire 
offence.  It  was  too  much.  She  laid  a  quivering  hand 
in  his  and  spoke. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I'd  gone  with  you,"  she  said;  "  I  would 
have  done — but  for  mother.  I  would  have  loved  to  go! 
And  now  you  are  angry.  I  shall  never  see  you  any 
more." 

He  put  his  other  hand  over  the  one  he  held  and  spoke 
rapidly  and  low. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  you  will  never  see  me  any  more — 
and  you'll  live  to  thank  me  for  it,  Lilith.  I — I  owe  you 
an  apology,  child,  and — and  I  offer  it.  Only  one  thing 
I'd  like  to  say.  Don't  talk  to  gentlemen  you  don't  know — 
and  don't  walk  about  in  the  West  End  dressed — well, 
like  that.     And  now  go." 

The  cab  waited  at  the  comer  and  Cyril  Graeme 
waited  by  it  as  Lilith  made  her  way  along  the  iron-railed 
areas  and  up  the  well- whitened  steps  of  No.  17.  Once 
only  she  looked  back,  at  this  her  lost  chance  of  re-enter- 
ing Paradise.  He  raised  his  hat  as  he  would  have  raised 
it  to  his  mother,  and  the  door  of  No.  17  opened  and 
swallowed  her.     He  stepped  back  into  the  hansom. 

"Home?"  he  said. 

"  Where  to,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  cabman,  apologetically. 

"  27,  Prince's  Gardens,"  he  amended. 

"  Countess  of  Wayland's,"  said  the  cabman  to  himself. 


XV 


The  door  was  open  and  men  in  white  aprons  were 
passing  up  and  down  the  staircase  when  Graeme  paid 
his  cabman  at  the  door  of  27  Prince's  Gardens.  He  ran 
up  the  steps  and  looked  about  him,  his  eyebrows  rising 
and  his  mouth  drawing  downwards.  An  awning  was 
being  fixed  up  over  the  pavement.  The  carved  bakisters 
were  wreathed  in  trails  of  smilax,  and  sheaves  of  lilies, 
pink  and  white,  softened  every  curve  of  the  staircase. 
On  the  first  floor  the  drawing-room  had  been  cleared  for 
dancing.  Cyril  hardly  knew  it  was  the  drawing-room 
in  its  unfamiliar  vastness,  and  he  stood  a  moment  to 
enjoy  the  beauty  of  the  decorations. 

"  Jove,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  that's  pretty !  One 
can't  see  it  properly  when  the  room  is  full." 

On  the  next  landing  the  house  wore  its  usual  aspect, 
the  demoralisation  of  the  imminent  dance  being  confined 
to  the  lower  rooms.  A  girl  in  a  loose  gown  of  floating 
white  heard  him  and  opened  a  door,  a  girl  with  an 
abundance  of  fair  hair,  parted  simply  on  her  small  head, 
rippling  away  in  classic  waves  from  a  Clytie-like  brow, 
and  loosely  drawn  back  by  a  riband  of  blue  on  her 
shoulders. 

"  Cyril,"  she  said  in  pleased  surprise,  "  have  you  come 
for  some  tea?    It's  just  coming  up.    Oh,  do  come  in." 

"  Who's  there?  "  asked  Cyril. 

"  No  one,  not  even  Grannie,  only  me.  Do  come, 
Cyril.  I  see  you  so  seldom,  although  we  live  in  the 
same  house." 

Cyril  let  himself  be  persuaded,  followed  his  sister  into 
the  room  and  submitted  to  be  installed  in  the  most  com- 
fortable chair  and  fed  with  dainties.  The  girl's  desire 
that  he  should  have  what  pleased  him  was  almost  pathetic. 
110 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  111 

He  accepted  her  pretty  petting  with  brotherly  indifference, 
and  when  he  spoke  it  was  to  grumble. 

"  Beastly  affair,  this,  to-night,  isn't  it  ?  I'd  forgotten 
all  about  it  till  I  tumbled  right  into  the  middle  of  the 
preparations.    Where's  Grannie  ?  " 

"  Lying  down.  A  dance  is  rather  an  undertaking  at 
her  age,  you  know." 

"  Then  why  does  she  bother  about  giving  it  ?  I 
wouldn't  have  thought  she  could  have  got  enough  people 
together  to  make  it  worth  while  so  early  in  the  autumn." 

"  Oh,  it's  to  be  quite  a  small  affair.  It  is  nice  to  have 
tea  together,  Cyril,  just  us  two.  It's  almost  like  being 
at  home  again,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Do  you  wish  you  were  at  home  again  ? "  asked 
Cyril  with  a  quick  look. 

"  Sometimes,"  she  answered  under  her  breath. 

"  Of  course,  it's  horribly  ungrateful  of  me,"  she  went 
on  presently,  her  brows  faintly  creasing  with  distress. 
"  When  one  thinks  of  all  Grannie  has  done  for  us,  of  the 
life  from  which  she  rescued  us " 

"  Farm  drudges,  that's  what  we  should  have  been 
by  now  if  it  hadn't  been  for  her,"  agreed  Cyril  curtly, 
"  and,  by  Heaven,  I  believe  I  should  have  been  happier." 

"  Oh,  Cyril,"  said  Violet  softly,  and  then,  "  What  is 
it  you  don't  like  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  you  don't  like  ?  "  he  asked  curiously  in 
return. 

For  a  moment  Violet  hesitated,  torn  between  the 
desire  to  speak  and  the  instinct  to  be  silent.  Then  the 
words  came  with  a  rush. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  it's  right"  she  cried. 

"Right!    What  is  not  right?"  in  blank  surprise. 

"  Everything,"  said  the  girl  comprehensively. 

Cyril  was  conscious  of  a  little  cynical  shake  under 
his  waistcoat, 

"  Jove,  that's  not  the  sort  of  thing  that  troubles  me," 
he  said. 

"  Then  what  is  ?  "  asked  his  sister  quickly. 


112  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  There  are  times — for  me — when  everything  is 
wrong,  just  as  it  is  for  you,  but  not  for  your  reasons," 
he  went  on  deliberately.  "  At  first  it  was  all  very  well, 
but  lately,  lately,  I've  got  sick  of  the  whole  thing,  sick 
of  conventions  and  restrictions,  and — and — I  tell  you, 
Vi,"  he  went  on  vehemently,  "  there  are  times  when  I 
can't  stand  it  any  longer,  when  I  launch  out  into  any 
folly,  any  vice,  just  for  a  change." 

The  girl's  delicate  face  saddened,  but  that  was  all. 
She  was  used  to  half  confessions  of  this  kind,  and  to  her 
they  meant  very  little.  Cyril  put  his  hands  behind  his 
head  and  stretched  out  his  neatly  shod  feet  in  front  of 
him. 

"  It's  a  rotten  old  world,"  he  said ;  "  I  don't  believe 
anyone  in  it  is  really  happy." 

As  he  spoke  his  thoughts  flew  backwards,  backwards 
to  a  little  face  lovelier  than  Violet's,  full  of  yearning, 
wistfulness,  and  pain.  It  had  ended  differently  from  what 
he  had  meant,  his  encounter  of  the  afternoon,  but  the 
details  of  it  had  left  an  impression  oddly  sharp  upon  his 
mind.  If  the  chance  had  fallen  to  his  little  inamorata 
of  the  afternoon  that  had  fallen  three  years  ago  to  him 
and  Violet,  would  she  have  found  happiness?  Or  would 
she  still  be  full  of  restlessness  and  discontent,  like  himself 
and  Violet?  Three  years  ago,  when  his  father's  death 
had  flung  them  penniless  upon  the  charity  of  a  Cumber- 
land dale  and  into  the  midst  of  the  rough  kindliness  that 
had  responded  to  their  need,  Patricia,  Countess  of  Way- 
land,  had  descended,  an  elderly  angel,  and  translated  them 
to  what  had  seemed  at  first  the  terrestrial  Paradise  of 
27  Prince's  Gardens.  They  had  fitted  into  their  new 
environment  more  readily  than  one  might  have  expected, 
for  their  father,  the  Countess  of  Wayland's  fourth  son, 
had  been  a  man  of  some  culture,  and  though  ordinary 
farm  tasks  had  absorbed  their  energies  in  the  daytime, 
their  evenings  had  been  passed  in  an  atmosphere  of 
music  and  books.  And  Lady  Patricia  had  devoted  herself 
to  the  further  education  of  her  two  waifs  con  amore. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  113 

♦ 
There  was  a  subtle  satisfaction  in  rendering  the  hated 

theories  over  which  she  and  poor  James  had  so  often 
quarrelled  of  no  effect;  in  fashioning  the  children  he,  in 
his  mother's  opinion,  had  done  his  best  to  ruin  according 
to  a  received  and  conventional  pattern.  But  the  fashion- 
ing was  a  little  late.  Earlier  influences  asserted  them- 
selves disconcertingly  sometimes ;  in  a  certain  distaste 
for  the  shackles  of  correct  behaviour  on  Cyril's  part,  in  an 
ardent  thirst  after  an  impossible  righteousness  on  Violet's. 
She  raised  now  to  her  brother  eyes  dark  with  the  obses- 
sion of  an  ancient  faith. 

"  I  don't  think  we  were  intended  to  be  happy,"  she 
said  softly.  "  If  we  just  do  our  duty — so  that  we  find 
peace  at  the  last " 

Cyril  moved  an  irritable  shoulder.  . 

"  The  last,"  he  echoed.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  the 
last  matters  very  little.  I  want  peace  at  the  beginning, 
and  in  the  middle,  and  all  the  time." 

At  midnight  that  same  day  he  would  seem  to  have 
attained  it.  Lady  Wayland's  rooms  were  full,  early  in 
the  autumn  though  it  was,  and  he  was  dancing  with  a 
verve,  an  evident  enjoyment,  that  brought  a  beam  of 
approval  into  her  keen  old  eyes.  Violet  was  dancing, 
too,  with  a  man  some  fifteen  years  her  senior,  a  man 
with  a  finely-cut,  still  face  and  slender,  carefully  pre- 
served figure,  a  man  who  lacked  altogether  Cyril's  delight 
in  his  own  performance  and  was  dancing  very  evidently 
because  it  was  his  duty  and  for  no  other  reason.  But 
Violent  seemed  to  find  nothing  wanting.  She  had  flung 
ethics  to  the  winds  for  the  moment,  and  was  floating  on 
a  sea  of  bliss.  It  was  not  only  that  flowers,  light,  per- 
fume, music,  people  combined  to  make  of  the  instant  a 
beautiful  whole  to  which  a  girl  of  nineteen  could  hardly 
fail  to  respond;  it  was  that  the  man  with  the  fine,  still 
face,  unenthusiastic,  perfunctory,  just  a  little  touched 
with  distaste  as  his  manner  was,  was  her  partner.  Lady 
Wayland,  a  striking  figure  in  black  satin  and  rosepoint, 
her  ivory-white  profile  and  abundant  silver  hair  thrown 
8 


114  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

out  like  a  cameo  by  the  purple  velvet  curtain  behind  her, 
watched  her  from  the  archway  in  which  she  stood, 
watched  her  with  a  sudden  softening  of  the  heart  that 
changed  her  whole  face.  "  I  don't  care  what  the  faults 
of  her  features  may  be;  the  girl  is  lovely,"  she  told 
herself.    ''  Wylford  is  a  fool  not  to  see  it." 

Did  he  see  it — or  not  ?  The  dreamy  waltz  music  had 
stopped  and  he  was  walking  with  her  down  the  long 
room,  and  there  was  something  in  the  inclination  of  his 
head,  something  in  the  carefully  veiled  jealousy  with 
which,  as  the  quick-witted  old  lady  watching  him  plainly 
saw,  he  almost  imperceptibly  warded  off  other  men,  that 
brought  that  welcome  doubt  to  her  mind.  Yet  he  only 
walked  once  round  the  room  and  then  brought  her 
straight  over  to  Lady  Wayland's  side.  Violet,  or  the  old 
lady  fancied  it,  looked  just  a  little  disappointed.  When 
another  partner  claimed  her,  as  he  did  almost  immediately, 
the  girl  went,  she  felt,  with  reluctance.  Lady  Wayland 
laid  her  fine  old  hand  on  Wylford 's  arm. 

"  We  will  go  in  here,"  she  said  peremptorily,  "  and 
talk." 

There  was  a  shallow  alcove  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
room,  round  which  ran  a  divan  in  purple  velvet  piled 
plentifully  with  cushions.  The  scent  of  flowers  and  a 
suggestion  of  musically  falling  water  was  in  the  air,  and 
the  light,  after  the  blaze  of  the  ball-room,  was  restful 
and  low.  Lady  Wayland  seated  herself  with  the  help 
of  Wylford's  hand,  and  motioned  to  him  to  sit  down 
beside  her. 

"  And  now,"  she  said  abruptly,  "  I'm  going  to  emu- 
late the  modern  middle-class  father — and  ask  you  your 
intentions.  I  am  quite  prepared,"  she  went  on  a  little 
grimly,  as  Wylford  did  not  speak,  "  for  the  reply  that 
you  haven't  any." 

Wylford  leant  forward,  his  hands,  lightly  laid  to- 
gether, between  his  knees,  and  the  dark  colour  crept 
slowly,  after  the  fashion  of  a  man's  blush,  up  behind  his 
ears  and  over  his  thin  temples.     Lady  Wayland  glanced 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  115 

at  him  and  then  stared  straight  over  the  heads  of  the 
mazily  gyrating  dancers  down  the  long  ball-room. 

"  I  am  quite  aware,"  she  resumed  presently,  "  that 
you  are  wondering  what  you  can  have  done  to  give  an 
old  woman  any  excuse  for  her  present  impertinence." — 
Wylford  sat  straight  up.  "No,"  he  said  with  some 
vehemence. — "  But  I  have  one  to  offer  that  I  think  you 
will  accept.  I'm  very  fond  of  you,  Henry."  Her  keen 
old  face  quivered  with  unwonted  feeling,  her  hard  old 
voice  softened  almost  into  tenderness.  Wylford  took 
her  hand  from  where  it  lay  pressed  hard  on  her  black 
satin  knee,  and  kissed  it. 

"  Of  course,  I  know  that  my  behaviour  is  not  at  all 
what  it  should  be,"  her  ladyship  went  on  with  cheerful 
frankness.  "  I  assume  in  my  old  age  responsibilities  that 
quickly  grow  to  be  too  much  for  me,  and  then  I  very 
calmly  shift  them  from  my  shoulders  to  yours.  I  saddle 
you  with  Cyril  as  a  secretary,  and  a  pretty  secretary 
I've  no  doubt  he  makes." 

"  He  doesn't  do  badly,"  put  in  Wylford. 

"  And  now,"  Lady  Wayland  went  on,  unheeding,  "  I 
want  to  saddle  you  with  Violet  as  a  wife." 

"  You  do  me  too  much  honour,"  said  Wylford  per- 
force. 

Lady  Wayland  lent  back  on  her  cushions  and  tapped 
the  step  of  the  divan  with  her  silv-er-headed  stick. 

"  My  dear  man,"  she  said  with  acute  irritation,  "  you 
are  the  one  person  in  all  the  world  to  whom  I  dare  to 
speak  the  truth.  For  Heaven's  sake  don't  let  us  slip  into 
the  slough  of  compliment.  It's  bad  enough  to  see  all 
the  rest  of  the  world  wallow  there." 

Wylford  said  nothing.  He  was  deeply  embarrassed 
and  his  face  betrayed  it. 

"  I  don't  know,"  her  ladyship  resumed  after  a 
moment's  pause,  and  there  was  a  touch  of  unwilling 
appeal  in  her  tones,  "  whether  the  fact  that  I  have  always 
treated  you  with  brutal  candour  gives  me  the  right  to 
expect  candour  in  return.    But  I  do." 


116  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Wylford  slowly  raised  himself. 

"  And  you  shall  have  it,"  he  said.  "  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  came  here  to-night  intending  to  let  you  have 
the  truth.  I  will  be  as  brutally  candid  as  even  you 
could  wish,  and  tell  you,  here  and  now,  that  I  shall 
never  marry  Violet." 

Lady  Wayland  looked  at  him  again.  He  had  spoken 
with  a  touch  of  stress,  almost  of  violence,  that  was  alto- 
gether opposed  to  his  usual  quietude,  and  she  was  old 
enough  to  know  that  the  unusual  does  not  happen  without 
reason. 

"  I'm  seventy-seven,  Henry,"  she  returned,  "  I  walk 
with  a  stick,  and  sit  down  with  difficulty,  and  my  days 
of  activity  are  numbered  and  fast  running  out.  But  it 
is  my  bodily  powers  only  that  are  failing,  thank  God. 
My  mind  is  still  clear.  You  don't  say  that  from  any 
want  of  affection  for  her." 

Wylford  dropped  his  face  in  his  hands  and  was 
silent,  trembling  visibly,  suddenly  helpless  in  the  grasp 
of  strong  emotion.  Lady  Wayland  watched  him  with  a 
satisfaction  she  felt  was  indecent.  He  spoke  with  his 
face  still  hidden. 

"  Affection !  "  he  said  with  scorn.  "  Let  you  and  I, 
who  are  always  candid  with  one  another,  call  things  by 
their  proper  names.  What  I  feel  for  her  is  not  affection 
— ^and  you  know  it." 

"  I  don't  care  what  it  is,"  returned  Lady  Wayland 
with  curious  energy,  "  so  that  it  leads  you  to  marry  her. 
Look  at  the  other  men  that  are  round  her!  To  which 
of  them  do  you  think  I  could  give  her  with  an  easy  mind ! 
One  of  them  will  surely  marry  her — if  you  don't.  And 
the  girl  is  the  light  of  my  old  eyes,  Wylford." 

Wylford  rose  and  took  one  or  two  uneven  steps  on 
the  carpeted  floor. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "  that  you  are 
tempting  me  almost  past  endurance.  I  have  always 
known  that  whilst  she  is — what  she  is  now," — Violet  at 
that  moment  floated  past  them,  her  eyes,  wide  and  a  little 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  117 

wistful  for  all  their  smiles,  resting  for  a  moment  on  his 
disturbed  face — "  I  should  be  fairly  well  able  to  control 
myself.  But  if  there  is  any  chance  of  another  man*s 
taking  her,  I  should  be  a  raging  wild  beast — with 
jealousy." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Lady  Wayland,  "  you  tell  me  plainly 
you  don't  intend  to  marry  her." 

"  I  would  not  do  her  so  great  a  wrong,"  said  Wylford 
under  his  breath. 

Silence  fell  in  the  little  alcove.  The  dreamy  waltz- 
music  had  commenced  again,  mtisic  with  that  throb  of 
passionate  unrest  and  pain  in  it  that  all  modern  waltz- 
music  has. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Lady  Wayland  presently,  "  it  is 
your  religious  convictions." 

"  Or  want  of  them,"  answered  Wylford. 

"  And  yet,"  the  old  lady  went  on,  "  look  at  the  world 
as  we  know  it.  Either  both  of  a  couple  are  frankly 
irreligious — or  else  it's  the  believing  wife  and  the  agnos- 
tic husband." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Wylford,  "  if  I  were  simply  the 
agnostic  husband.  But  with  me  it  is  more  than  that. 
I  am — to  every  form  of  Christianity — a  sincere  and  con- 
sistent opponent.  To  me  it  is  founded  on  error,  histor- 
ical, ethical,  and  philosophic.  I  regard  it  as  a  bar  to 
human  progress.  I  see  in  it  the  supporter  of  injustice 
and  v.Tong.  I  strenuously  oppose  its  diffusion,  and 
utterly  reject  its  teaching.  Violet  is,  in  the  very  and 
most  real  meaning  of  the  word,  a  Christian.  Can  you 
imagine  a  situation  more  bitterly  ironical  than  Violet 
and  myself — married  ?  " 

"  And  yet,"  said  Lady  Wayland,  "  you  are  a  good 
man.  It's  a  bad  day  for  Christianity,  Henry,  when  one 
admires  its  opponents  more  than  its  exponents." 

A  smile  passed  swiftly  over  Wylford's  rather  hag- 
gard face ;  the  tribute  of  his  old  friend  was  sweet. 

Lady  Wayland  glanced  quickly  at  him. 

"  Of   course,"    she   said   presently,    "  to   be    strictly 


118  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

reasonable,  logical,  all  that,  you  know,  the  person  you 
ought  to  marry  is  Mildred." 

Wylford  moved  his  spare  shoulders  in  sudden  irre- 
pressible irritation. 

"  She  rasps  every  nerve  I  have  in  my  body,"  he  said. 

Lady  Wayland  nodded,  not  without  satisfaction. 
"  Which  brings  us  to  another  aspect  of  the  case,"  she 
said.  "  For  there  is  one  that  we  have  not  yet  touched 
upon,  and  that  we  have  no  right  to  ignore.  Violet  is 
fond  of  you." 

Wylford  thrilled.  The  blunt  statement  of  a  fact 
which  he  had  so  far  deliberately  refused  to  see  shook 
him.    But  even  yet  he  held  it  away  from  him. 

"  Thinks  she  is,"  he  amended  quietly.  "  And  her 
fondness  for  me,  such  as  it  is,  is  rooted  in  the  mistaken 
belief  that  she  has  only  to  pray  for  me — and  I  shall 
alter.  For  me,  as  I  am,  should  she  once  realise  me  as  I 
am,  her  feeling  would  touch  horror.  And  do  you  think 
I  could  bear  that  ?  " 

"  You  make  too  much  of  it,"  said  Lady  Wayland, 
with  a  trace  of  vehemence.  "  Difficulties  of  this  sort  are 
adjustable." 

"  Yes,  in  a  marriage  of  convenience — or  even  liking. 
But  in  one  of  love  it  would  be — hell." 

For  some  little  time  Lady  Wayland  did  not  answer. 
Then,  with  a  prolonged  shake  of  her  handsome  old  head, 
she  laid  an  affectionate  hand  on  Wylford's  arm. 

"  It  will  be  too  much  for  you,  that  same  love,"  she* 
prophesied.     "  I   shall  live  until  mine  old  eyes  behold 
their  desire.     I  shall  leave  my  darling  in  the  hands  that 
alone  I  can  trust.    You  will  marry  her,  Wylford,  in  the 
end." 

"  I  may,"  agreed  Wylford,  his  voice  a  little  rough- 
ened. "  For  a  man  chooses  his  dog,  his  horse,  his  furni- 
ture, his  house,  his  profession — but  he  does  not  choose 
his  wife." 


XVI 


Life  was  uneventful  during  the  next  fortnight  at 
17,  Calthorpe  Road.  Mr.  Watkins  came  home  in  the 
middle  of  the  day  to  his  dinner,  bringing,  to  Lilith's 
tiptilted  nose,  an  undeniable  whiff  of  cheese  and  bacon 
with  him,  but  towards  the  friendship  her  mother  had 
so  confidently  predicted  between  him  and  her  youngest, 
he  was  regretfully  aware  he  progressed  not  at  all.  With 
Emily  it  was  different,  painfully  different.  Why,  Mr. 
Watkins  asked  himself  with  a  touch  of  tragedy,  should 
the  approbation  he  so  keenly  coveted  be  denied  him  and 
that  with  which  he  could  gladly  have  dispensed  be  so 
lavishly  offered  ?  At  first  he  had  been  tempted  to  throw 
titbits,  so  to  speak,  of  wit  and  wisdom  in  Emily's  direc- 
tion, "  just  to  let  the  other  one  see  what  I  can  do!  "  he 
remarked  to  himself.  But  as  "  the  other  one  "  remained 
obstinately  indifferent  to  anything  that  he  could  do,  and 
Emily  succumbed  to  his  many  fascinations  all  too  easily, 
he  "  dried  up,"  to  use  his  own  phrase,  completely — to 
Emily's  acute  disappointment. 

"  You  never  try  to  be  funny  now,  Algernon,"  she 
told  him  regretfully  one  day  when  supper  had  dragged 
its  weary  length  along  almost  in  silence. 

"  Try  to  be  funny,"  echoed  Alg'non  indignantly. 
"  If  I've  got  to  try  to  be  funny,  sooner  I  stop  better 
for  me." 

"  I  didn't  mean  it  that  way,"  apologised  Emily,  "  I 
don't  know  'ow  it  is  you  always  take  up  what  I  say  like 
that." 

"  I  wasn't  aware  that  I  took  up  what  you  say  at  all," 
remarked  Alg'non  wearily. 

"  You  never  sing  now,  Alg'non,"  she  remarked,  a 
night  or  two  later.     She  was  courting,  she  knew,  yet 

119 


120  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

another  snub,  but  her  grief  was  too  much  for  her,  "  Why 
don't  you  sing — like  you  used  to  ?  " 

"  'Aven't  the  'eart,"  said  Alg'non,  and  involuntarily 
his  blue  eyes  turned  towards  Lilith. 

And  then  he  revolted.  Why  should  he  go  drearily, 
with  ashes,  metaphorically  speaking,  on  his  head  and 
bitterness  in  his  soul  because  one  girl  in  a  universe  of 
girls  refused  to  appreciate  him  ?  "  Females  generally  take 
to  me,"  he  told  himself.  "  There's  Em,  now,  she's  taken 
a  reg'lar  fancy  to  me,  and  I  wish  she  'adn't.  If  she  can 
like  me,  why  can't  the  other  one,  that's  what  I'd  like  to 
know.  Perhaps  if  I  was — more  myself — like!  A  bit 
livelier  than  what  I've  been  lately ! " 

He  came  home  the  night  after  this  possibility  had 
occurred  to  him  determinedly  hilarious,  beating  out  a 
fantasia  with  the  front  door  knocker,  and  whistling  as 
he  sprang  upstairs,  two  steps  at  a  time.  The  whole 
house  could  hear  him  proclaiming  in  a  throaty  baritone 
that  the  British  lion  was  a  noble  skion  as  he  "  tidied 
himself  "  for  the  evening,  and  he  was  still  singing  when 
Lilith  came  into  the  basement  room  where  the  family 
supper  was  laid. 

"  '  And  the  see-oldier  leant  upon  his  soo-ord ! ' — and 
it  bent  under  him,  as  of  course  the  silly  fool,  if  'e  'adn't 
bin  a  silly  fool,  might  'a  known  it  would " 

Lilith  gave  him  a  glance  of  large-eyed  wonder  and 
took  a  book  from  the  top  of  one  of  the  corner  cup- 
boards.   Emily  was  moved  to  almost  hysterical  mirth. 

"  Oh,  ain't  he  funny  ? "  she  gasped  to  the  smiling 
Jane.    "  Whatever  did  we  do  without  you,  Alg'non !  " 

The  contrast  was  too  much.  Alg'non  turned  on  his 
too  effusive  admirer. 

"  'Ere,"  he  said,  "  can't  you  take  something  for  that 
laugh  ?    'Fliction,  I  call  it !  " 

"  Oh,  dear,  you  always  must  'ave  your  joke,  Alg'non," 
replied  his  victim,  with  a  pathetic  absence  of  resentment. 

"  Joke,"  echoed  Alg'non  darkly,  "  it's  beyond  a  joke, 
/  think." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  121 

But  he  repented  him.  Failing  the  admiration  he  so 
achingly  desired,  Emily's  was  better  than  none.  Grad- 
ually his  sallies  went  in  her  direction.  Slowly  and  by 
degrees,  in  the  end  ostentatiously,  he  turned  his  back  on 
the  disturber  of  his  peace,  sitting  quiet,  scornful,  blast- 
ingly  indifferent,  a  yard  or  two  away.  By  the  end  of  the 
meal  Emily's  lavish  appreciation  had  laid  a  welcome 
balm  to  Alg'non's  smarting  vanity,  and  his  wrath,  by  a 
mental  process  he  was  quite  incapable  of  following,  had 
transferred  itself,  in  fourfold  measure,  to  Lilith.  When, 
in  spite  of  all  he  could  do  to  entertain  her,  she  rose  from 
the  table  early,  evidently  bent  on  seeking  the  seclusion 
of  her  own  room,  his  fiery  sense  of  undeserved  ill-treat- 
ment blazed  up.  If  he  could  not  touch  her  to  admiration 
he  could  at  least  make  her  angry. 

"  Don't  go,"  he  begged  in  a  ridiculous  falsetto,  "  we're 
just  beginning  to  like  you." 

Lilith  answered  him  with  a  look,  and  her  progression 
towards  th^  half-open  door  was  a  little  more  tragically 
contemptuous  in  quality  than  she  knew. 

"  Well,  leave  us  a  lock  of  your  'air,  anyway,"  entreated 
Alg'non  with  a  dreadful  recklessness,  but  Lilith  was 
gone. 

After  which  the  realisation  of  what  he  had  done  de- 
scended icily  upon  him. 

"  It's  all  up  now,"  he  told  himself  drearily,  too  hope- 
less even  to  repent.  "  Needn't  'ope  for  anything  now!" 
— after  which  every  idea  he  had  ever  possessed  forsook 
him,  and  forgetting  to  take  his  candle,  forgetting  even  to 
say  good-night,  he  stalked  in  gloomy  silence  up  to  bed. 

Which  unexpected  development  of  the  situation  moved 
Emily  to  tears.  Mrs.  Somers  glanced  at  her  as  she  sat, 
sniffing  softly,  pretending  to  be  absorbed  in  one  of  her 
penny  novelettes. 

"  Don't  you  break  your  'art  over  him,  my  gel ;  it's 
Lilith  he's  taken  with,  tho'  I'm  sure  the  way  the  gel 
be'aves  I  wonder  at  it.  But  'e  is,  Em'ly,  an'  I  wouldn't 
makes  eyes  at  him  if  I  were  you,  'cause  you'll  only  vex 


122  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

him.  'E's  no  chance  with  Lilith;  anyone  with  'arf  an 
eye  can  see  that  too — and  I  can't  say  as  I  wonder  at  that. 
LiHth's  'ad  a  taste  of  something,  I  won't  say  better,  but 
anyway  different,  and  I  misdoubt  it's  going  to  be  the  ruin 
of  'er.  I  always  'eld  that  it  was  a  mistake  to  fill  'er  'ead 
with  'igh  notions.  She'd  'a  bin  'appier  without  *em.  If 
she's  never  seen  anything  but  'er  own  'ome  'e'd  have  had 
his  chance  right  enough,  an'  'e's  a  good  young  man  is 
Alg'non,  an'  got  a  little  money  be'ind  him." 

"  But,"  objected  Jane,  with,  a  touch  of  shrewdness, 
"if  she'd  been  like  me  an'  Em'ly  'e'd  never  a'  thought 
so  much  of  'er.  He  won't  look  at  Em'ly.  To  be  sure," 
with  sisterly  frankness,  "  she  isn't  much  to  look  at.  You 
was  a  bit  better,  Em,  when  first  Alg'non  came,  but  you're 
as  untidy  as  ever,  lately." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Somers,  with  a  sigh,  "  you  must 
just  worry  through,  all  of  you,  best  way  you  can.  It's 
beyond  me.  'Tisn't  as  simple  as  I  thought  it  was  going 
to  be,  'aving  a  man  in  the  'ouse." 

The  next  night  Lilith  did  not  come  down  to  supper 
at  all.  The  flavour  died  gradually  out  of  Algernon's  pork 
pie  as  the  minutes  went  on  and  still  her  chair  stood 
empty.  Jane  went  to  the  bottom  of  the  dark  stairs  that 
plunged  kitchenwards  out  of  the  little  "  'all,"  and  rang 
a  bell  big  enough  for  a  railway  station — with  no  result. 
At  last  Mrs.  Somers  turned  to  her  second  daughter. 

"  Em'ly,"  she  said,  "  do  go  up  an'  see  what  that  gel's 
doing." 

Emily  came  down  with  exasperating  deliberation. 

"  She  isn't  there,"  she  announced  with  a  giggle. 

"  Now  where  is  she  ?  "  said  her  mother  faintly. 

Where  was  she? 

Only  two  miles  from  Canonbury  there  is  another 
London,  a  London  glowing  with  light,  humming  with 
talk  and  laughter,  all-a-flicker  with  movement,  throbbing 
with  vivid  life,  a  London  where  motor-cars  slide  and 
hansoms  flash,  where  women,  daintily  dressed,  pass  smil- 
ingly from  carriages  and  disappear  behind  mysterious 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  123 

doorways  all  glorious  within,  and  their  humbler  sisters 
watch  them  with  that  admiration  which  is  only  saved  from 
envy  by  hopelessness — a  London  where  comfortable  and 
homely  folk  form  long  queues  on  pavements  under  the 
direction  of  kindly  policemen  scrupulously  meting  out 
justice  to  latecomers,  homely  folk  content  to  stand  cheer- 
fully for  hours  in  the  cold  and  dusk  outside  that  they  may 
see  something  of  the  warmth  and  brightness  within ;  the 
London  of  theatres  and  music-halls,  and  such  gaiety  as  it 
is  given  to  our  gloomy  capital  to  know.  To  this  London 
Lilith  had  found  her  way,  guided  by  Graeme's  chance 
suggestion  of  a  few  days  before.  That  suggestion  had 
lain  in  her  mind  like  a  germinating  seed.  Suddenly  it  had 
both  blossomed  and  borne  fruit.  Why  should  not  she  go 
to  a  theatre,  that  theatre  that  was  to  Ralph  Mansfield 
and  his  like  a  necessary  adjunct  of  existence  and  to  her 
own  people  as  the  gate  of  Tophet?  There  was  a  flavour 
of  the  forbidden  about  the  idea,  exquisite,  horrible,  en- 
chanting, impossible.  It  had  culminated  in  frank  re- 
bellion. 

Yet  Lilith  was  vaguely  aware  of  the  necessity  for 
caution,  Graeme's  suggestions  with  regard  to  her  appear- 
ance were  by  no  means  forgotten,  though  they  had  not 
been  entirely  understood.  She  had  turned  down  the  brim 
of  her  hat  and  removed  the  touch  of  scarlet,  that  daring 
touch  that  had  lent  a  wholly  false  significance  to  her 
wide-eyed  glance,  an  undreamt-of  suggestion  to  the 
innocent  curve  of  her  mouth.  Her  throat  and  ankles  were 
alike  decorously  covered.  The  sham  pearls  were  left  at 
home,  and  no  touch  of  poudre  d'amour  disfigured  the 
purity  of  her  skin,  all  of  which  little  circumstances  com- 
bined to  render  it  possible  that  she  had  wandered,  elated 
one  moment,  frightened  the  next,  from  one  theatre  to 
another,  unable  to  tear  herself  away  from,  yet  afraid  to 
yield  to,  their  sinful  fascination,  without  a  word  that 
could  alarm  or  a  glance  that  could  enlighten  her. 

And  then  one  of  the  kindly  policemen  spoke. 

"  I'd  make  up  my  mind,   if  I  was  you,"  he  said. 


124.  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  You've  lost  a  good  place  twice  a'ready.  If  you're 
waiting  for  anyone,  of  course  it's  no  good.  But  if  you 
want  to  get  in  alone,  you'd  better  stand  with  the  others." 
Lilith  stood  "with  the  others."  What  was. to  the 
policeman  an  ordinary  and  everyday  occurrence  could 
not  be  the  outrage  on  decency  she  had  always  been  taught 
to  regard  it.  She  passed  in  with  the  others,  paid  her 
half-crown,  and  found  herself  one  of  a  cheerful,  homely, 
pleasure-loving  pit  crowd,  a  crowd  which  was  quite  ready 
to  make  friends  with  her  and  entirely  unaware  of  any- 
thing to  be  ashamed  of  in  its  environment.  A  big  and 
motherly  woman  with  a  bag  of  peppermint  drops  passed 
it  round  her  immediate  neighbourhood  and  then  handed 
it  to  Lilith.  A  young  man  at  the  other  side  of  her  advised 
her  to  take  her  jacket  off  as  it  would  be  "'ot"  before 
long,  and  confided  to  her  the  interesting  fact  that  he  had 
a  tendency  to  bronchitis  himself,  and  that  his  wife  would 
JDretty  sharp  see  that  he  took  his  overcoat  off  for  fear  he 
wouldn't  feel  the  good  of  it  when  he  got  out  again,  which 
his  wife,  sitting  upon  the  other  side  of  him,  pretty  sharply 
did.  The  atmosphere,  to  her  neighbours,  was  ordinary, 
everyday,  and  entirely  innocent.  From  the  wondering 
realisation  of  which  fact  Lilith  was  roused  by  the  tuning 
up  of  fiddles  and  an  indescribably  exhilarating  settling 
down  of  everybody  about  her  into  eager  anticipation  of 
enjoyment.  The  next  few  hours  were  an  intoxication  of 
colour,  light,  and  joy.  The  story  unfolding  itself  before 
her  on  the  stage  was  of  the  flimsiest,  but  the  story  mat- 
tered nothing.  What  was  of  importance  was  the  fact 
that  at  last  she  had  found  her  way  into  a  world  of  bliss, 
a  world  of  lovely  girls  mad  with  the  joy  of  living,  of 
graceful  men  in  picturesque  attire  who  embodied  before 
her  eyes  all  she  had  ever  dreamt  of  chivalry  and  honour. 
What  did  it  matter  that  the  mandoline  of  the  knight  sev- 
ered from  his  lady-love  and  serenading  her  beneath  the 
stars  was  a  sham,  and  the  words  he  sang  about  the  most 
banal  a  wearied  hack-writer  of  theatrical  lyrics  had  ever 
strung  together  ?    On  the  music  of  his  voice  Lilith's  soul 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  125 

floated,  high  above  all  considerations  of  common-sense. 
What  did  it  matter  that  the  enchantment  of  the  eye,  a 
few  feet  nearer  the  stage,  would  have  resolved  itself  into 
rows  of  painted  women  barely  clothed  with  decency  and 
as  far  away  as  any  of  us  from  that  joie  de  vivre  Lilith 
imagined  she  had  at  last  so  surely  found?  A  glamour 
was  about  her  that  blinded  her  to  all  except  itself.  Even 
the  naked  limbs  could  not  dissipate  it.  To  pure-eyed 
youth  there  is  no  impropriety  in  the  partially  draped 
figure  till  some  prurient-minded  elder  points  it  out,  and 
here  was  no  blase  senior,  dreadfully  disillusioned,  to  turn 
the  blasting  light  of  experience  upon  her  fairy  world  and 
shrivel  it  into  ashes — and  dirt.  Though  she  came,  once, 
near  that  very  shrivelling,  that  salutary  showing  her  of 
the  truth,  that  would  have  held  her  feet  from  following 
the  will-o'-the-wisp  that  w^as  beckoning  her.  She  turned 
to  her  neighbour,  the  young  husband  with  the  regrettable 
tendency  to  t)ronchial  trouble. 

"  Are  they — ordinary  g^rls  ?  "  she  asked  a  little  breath- 
lessly.   "  I  mean — girls  like  me  ?  " 

The  young  man  looked  at  her. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  wouldn't  say  that.  Not  quite  like 
you.  Some  of  'em  may  be,  of  course,"  he  added,  justice 
constraining  him,  "  but  all  of  'em !    No !  " 

Which  reply  set  Lilith's  mind  working  in  another 
direction.  What  manner  of  girls  were  they,  then,  whose 
lives  were  set  to  this  rich  concord  of  colour  and  sound, 
who  enjoyed  nightly  this  feast  of  rapture  and  applause. 
In  her  wanderings  that  evening  from  theatre  to  theatre 
she  had  seen  more  than  one  dark  little  entry  bearing  the 
cryptic  legend  "  Stage  Door."  That,  evidently,  was 
where  these  radiant  beings  went  in.  That,  also,  would 
be  where  they  came  out.  Bent  on  beholding  more  closely 
these  leaders  of  lives  so  different  from  her  own,  Lilith 
left  her  seat  at  the  first  hint  of  departure,  slipped  out  of 
the  theatre,  and  ran  round  to  the  stage  door. 

The  contrast  between  the  front  door  of  the  theatre, 
where  motors  slid  and  hansoms  jingled,  where  stood 


126  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

women  in  bright  raiment  with  jewels  glittering  on  beau- 
tiful bare  necks  and  flowers  blooming  softly  in  daintily 
dressed  hair,  where  men,  deferential  and  tender,  cared  for 
and  served  them,  and  crowds  of  humbler  folk  criticising, 
envying,  but  always  admiring,  stood  apd  watched  their 
going — the  contrast  between  all  this  and  the  black  little 
alley  where  stood  the  stage  door  was  arresting,  almost 
shocking.  But  the  little  black  alley  was  not  empty.  The 
smoking  light  of  its  one  oil  lamp  shone  upon  a  group  of 
waiting  figures ;  a  few  men,  rough  looking  but  quiet, 
smoking  and  leaning  against  the  wall ;  a  tall  girl  dressed 
in  black,  standing  rigid  and  still,  her  dark  eyes  fixed 
steadily  before  her;  a  comfortable-looking  middle-aged 
woman  with  a  couple  of  cloaks  over  her  arm.  Lilith 
went  up  to  the  middle-aged  woman  and  stood  beside  her. 
She  had  a  fresh  and  homely  face,  and  her  grey  eyes 
were  kindly  if  a  little  curious.  By  and  by  curiosity  got 
the  better. 

"  Wytin  for  someone,  my  dear?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,"  said  Lilith,  adding  shyly,  "  I  only  wanted  to 
see  them  come  out." 

The  woman  laughed  and  a  touch  of  good-natured 
scorn  invaded  her  kindly  look.  She  had  seen  phenomena 
of  this  kind  before. 

"  Look  a  bit  diif 'rent  when  they  do,"  she  said.  "  You 
used  to  the  theatre,  my  dear?  " 

"  No,"  confessed  Lilith,  dropping  her  voice  so  that 
the  admission  reached  only  her  companion.  "  This  is  the 
first  time  I've  ever  been." 

The  woman  nodded. 

"  Thought  so,"  she  returned.  "  An'  you're  a  bit 
styge-struck,  ain't  you  ?  But  don't  you  be  led  away,  my 
dear;  it's  no  life  for  a  girl — if  she  can  anyway  keep  out 
of  it.  Of  course,  my  two,  well,  they  couldn't  keep  out  of 
it  very  well,  for  they  was  born  in  it,  so  to  speak,  mother 
and  father  both  on  the  boards.  An'  there's  less  danger 
for  such  as  them.    But  you !    You  keep  out  of  it,  my  dear. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  127 

Here  they  are !  " — as  two  girls  of  about  Lilith's  own  age 
came  out  into  the  darkness  together. 

"  H'llo,  Grannie ! "  they  said,  and  submitted  to  be 
cloaked,  and  took  each  one  of  the  old  woman's  arms 
and  went  off,  the  three  together,  both  girls  talking  at 
once.  But  the  woman  remembered  to  turn  round  and 
say  "  Good-night,  my  dear,"  to  Lilith.  Lilith  moved  a 
little  nearer  to  the  tall  girl  in  black. 

"  When — anyone — wants  to  go— on  the  boards — what 
does  she  do  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  She  goes  to  an  agent." 

"  An  agent! " 

"  Yes,  an  agent.  You  needn't  ask  me  any  more, 
because  I  shan't  answer  you.  I  wish  I  hadn't  answered 
you  now;  I  spoke  without  thinking.  Don't  talk  to  me. 
I  want  to  be  quiet.    You'd  better  go  away." 

But  Lilith  lingered.  Women  were  passing  rapidly  now, 
singly  and  in  groups,  women  with  the  grease-paint  only 
half  washed  from  their  faces,  some  in  velvet  and  furs, 
some  in  the  faded  and  colourless  garments  of  extreme 
poverty.  Lilith  was  aware  of  a  bare  wooden  staircase, 
dimly  lighted,  rising  sharply  just  within  the  door.  As 
she  gazed  up  it,  five  or  six  girls  ran  down  laughing  and 
talking  together.  The  tall  girl  in  black  stepped  forward 
and  caught  one  of  them  by  the  arm. 

"Elsie,"  she  said,  and  again,  "Elsie!" 

The  fair  little  face  under  the  fluffy  hair  and  the 
black  hat  puckered  up. 

"  Oh,  Ruth,  what  a  nuisance  you  are,"  she  said. 

"Elsie,  I've  got  to  be — for  mother's  sake,"  the  elder 
girl's  voice  was  sharp  with  feeling.  "  She  can't  fetch 
you  herself — like  she  used.  Elsie,  you'll  come  home — 
for  mother's  sake." 

Elsie  shifted  uneasily  from  one  foot  to  the  other. 
Her  companions  were  waiting  for  her. 

"  Of  course  I'll  come  home,"  she  agreed  fretfully, 
"soon.     I — I  needn't  come  now;  it  would  spoil  every- 


128  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

thing.  Ruth,  don't  be  so  tiresome.  Why  shouldn't  I 
go?    There's  no  harm  in  it.    We're  all  going." 

Ruth  took  her  hand  from  her  sister's  arm.  She  had 
failed.  Why  prolong  argument?  The  fair  little  face 
under  the  black  hat  flashed  into  sudden  relief. 

"  I  won't  be  late — ^but  I  must  go.  Oh,  don't  bother, 
Ruth.    I'll  be  home  almost  as  soon  as  you  are." 

"Where  is  she  going?"  asked  Lilith  almost  in  spite 
of  herself  as  the  group  of  girls  ran  laughing  away. 

"  To  Hell,"  said  the  tall  girl  in  black. 


XVII 


But  Lilith  was  "  glamoured."  Even  the  lesson  she 
had  had  at  the  stage  door  could  not  clear  the  rosy  mists 
from*  her  brain.  They  were  all  sitting  up  for  her  when 
she  reached  home  that  night,  and  each  received  after 
her  kind  Lilith's  frank  acknowledgment  of  the  way  in 
which  she  had  spent  her  evening.  Oddly  enough,  it  was 
the  shocked  whiteness  of  Algernon's  face  that  made  the 
deepest  impression  on  Lilith's  consciousness.  For  her 
mother's  distress,  for  Jane's  gfrief,  for  Emily's  half- 
horrified,  half-admiring  astonishment  she  was  prepared, 
but  Algernon's  pale  horror  of  stupefied  silence  was  more 
significant  and  damning  than  them  all.  And  it  moved 
Lilith  to  a  perfect  frenzy  of  resentment.  What  had 
it  to  do  with  him?  she  asked  herself.  Why  should  he 
take  it  as  a  personal  matter  at  all  ?  She  turned  her  back 
on  him  and  flung  her  defiance  in  the  face  of  life,  that  life, 
starved,  colourless  and  grey,  they  were  all  conspiring 
to  compel  her  to  lead. 

"  Mother,  it's  no  use,"  she  said,  her  voice  rising  a 
a  little  in  her  excitement.  "  I  won't  be — shut  up — here. 
I'll  do  the  same  as  others.  I'll  enjoy  the  same  as 
others.  There's  nothing  wrong  in  pleasure — ^and  I'm 
going  to  have  my  share.  I'm  going  to  take  my  life 
in  my  own  hands  and  live  it — so  that  it  does  not  fail  of 
everything.  I've  chosen  a  life  for  myself  that  has  beauty 
in  it— ^and  cheerfulness — and  hope!  I'm  going  on  the 
stage." 

Mrs.  Somers  sat  down  heavily.  She  put  her  arm 
round  Jane's  waist,  and  hid  her  face  on  Jane's  comfortable 
arm. 

o  129 


130  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  I  knowed  it,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was  toneless 
and  low.  "  She's  begun — and  she'll  go  on.  They  alius 
do." 

In  the  morning  life  had  readjusted  itself  a  little. 
Lilith  had  eaten  a  slender  breakfast  almost  in  silence, 
and  betaken  herself  to  the  blessed  haven  of  her  own 
little  room,  and  among  the  others  the  unescapable  and 
blessed  inclination  to  make  the  best  of  what  cannot  be 
prevented  had  already  declared  itself. 

"  There's  some,"  Mrs.  Somers  remarked,  absent- 
mindedly  drying  her  tears  on  her  tea-towel,  "  what 
would  say  they'd  done  with  sich  a  gel,  that  if  a  daughter 
won't  listen  to  her  mother's  wishes  she's  no  right  to  a 
'ome  under  her  mother's  roof.  But  I'm  not  one  of  them. 
Whatever  my  gel  does  she's  still  my  gel — an'  she'll  never 
find  her  mother's  heart  shut  against  her,  nor  her  mother's 
door  either.  I  don't  know  quite  how  you  see  things, 
Jane " 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  wouldn't  wish  it  different,"  said  Jane, 
reproachfully,  and  the  two  put  their  arms  round  one 
another  and  cried  again. 

"  An'  I  don't  know,  after  all,  why  we  should  take  it 
so  serious,"  argued  Emily  a  little  later.  "  There's  many 
a  good  girl  on  the  stage.  An'  there's  chances,  too,  that 
don't  come  in  a  girl's  way  in  any  other  line.  Lilith's 
right  there.  Look  'ow  many  actresses  'ave  married  into 
the  nobility  only  lately.  An'  Lilith  prettier  than  any  of 
them.  I  don't  wonder  she  won't  go  on  any  longer  this 
way — and  I  don't  see  that  we  can  blame  her,  either." 

"  No,  but  you  was  always  a  bit  feather-headed,  my 
gel,  the  silly  trash  you're  always  reading  'd  do  that, 
even  if  it  hadn't  come  by  nature,"  returned  Mrs.  Somers. 
"  'Tis  me  and  Jane  that  see  things  clearly.  An'  it  isn't 
only  prejudice.  If  it  had  'a  bin  you  or  Jane,  now,  that 
had  gone  on  the  stage  I'd  'a  bin  far  less  put  out.  But 
Lilith's  shown  a'ready  what  she  is — an'  I'm  full  o'  fears. 
An'  she !  Her  father's  darlin'.  I'm  glad  he  never  lived 
to  see  this  day." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  131 

"  Oh,  I  think  you  take  it  a  bit  too  serious,  mother," 
returned  Emily. 

"  I'll  get  Mr.  Loveday  to  talk  to  'er,"  promised  Jane, 
shyly.     "  If  anyone  can  save  'er,  'e  can." 

Meanwhile,  Lilith  was  walking  down  the  grimy  Lon- 
don roads,  her  eyes  alight  and  her  mouth  shut  firmly. 
Her  life  was  in  her  own  hands  now  and  no  one  would 
help  her  to  live  it.  Her  perceptions  had  quickened  to  the 
call  upon  them  and  Lilith  knew  just  what  she  would  do. 
In  a  little  newspaper  shop  in  a  side  street  she  had  seen 
a  fly-specked  Era  hanging  on  a  string.  She  went  in  and 
bought  it. 

"  It's  two  months  old,"  said  the  untidy  sylph  behind 
the  diminutive  counter,  "  does  that  matter?  " 

"  No,"  said  Lilith,  curtly. 

She  carried  it  into  Canonbury  Station  and  read  it 
in  the  waiting-room.  In  it,  as  she  had  vaguely  antici- 
pated, were  the  advertisements  of  many  agents.  She 
copied  names  and  addresses  carefully  into  a  pocket- 
book,  burnt  the  ancient  Era,  and  set  out  upon  the  second 
stage  of  her  pilgrimage  in  search  of  joy. 

It  ended  on  the  doorstep  of  a  squalid-looking  house 
in  the  Waterloo  Road,  oddest  of  temples  for  the  enshrin- 
ing of  such  a  deity.  A  flight  of  uncarpeted  wooden 
steps  led  upwards,  and  passing  up  and  down  them  was 
a  crowd  of  a  type  to  Lilith  wholly  unfamiliar.  But  not 
even  the  sight  of  the  bold-faced  women  and  seedy- 
looking  men  would  Lilith  allow  to  throw  her  off  her 
quest.  She  joined  the  ascending  line  with  quiet  deter- 
mination and  mounted  steadily  with  them. 

At  the  top  she  found  herself  in  a  fair-sized  room 
with  two  big  curtainless  windows  facing  the  street,  a 
bare  wooden  table  in  the  middle  littered  with  papers, 
bare  wooden  seats  running  round  it,  and  discoloured 
walls  thickly  adorned  with  the  pinned-up  portraits  in 
vivid  colours  of  various  popular  favourites.  A  ground 
glass  partition  ran  across  one  end  of  the  room,  in  which 
was  a  half-glass  door,  and  behind  it  sat  evidently  the 


132  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

arbiter  of  many  destinies.  Lilith  could  hear  his  voice, 
curt  but  not  unkindly,  busily  slaying  hopes. 

"  No !  Nothing  for  you  to-day.  It's  no  uge  you 
botherin'  me  for  ever.  Business  is  dull.  I  told  you  so 
before.  No!  Nothing!  Nothing  hat  hall!"  more  em- 
phatically. "  If  you'd  been  a  bit  earlier,  Gladys,  my 
dear,  I  might  have  bin  able  to  do  something  for  you — 
but  you  never  can  get  up  in  a  mornin';  now  it's  too 
late.  No,  nothing.  Yes,  of  course,  if  I  hear  of  any- 
thing I'll  let  you  know.  It's  no  use  wastin'  my  time 
in  this  way  " — the  speaker  pushed  back  a  chair  and  came 
to  the  open  half-glass  door,  a  big,  loose-lipped  man,  with 
little  relish  evidently  for  his  task,  "  I've  been  saying  '  No  ' 

to  everybody  for  two  solid  hours  on  end,  and  I'm  b 

well  tired  of  it.  You  can  go  home,  all  of  you.  Here, 
Lodes,"  his  roving  eye  lighting  suddenly  on  a  young 
man  with  a  wide,  thin-lipped  mouth  and  an  odd,  outward 
bend  at  his  knees,  "  you  can  come  again,  four  o'clock, 
this  afternoon !  "  Lodes  nodded  and  clattered  noisily 
down  the  stairs  and  envious  looks  followed  him.  "  You 
others  can  go.  I've  nothing  for  you,  any  of  you,"  and 
now  his  heavy  but  observant  glance  had  found  Lilith. 

A  tall  woman  in  expensive  sables,  a  woman  with 
smouldering  dark  eyes  and  a  scarlet  mouth,  looked  at 
him  with  quiet  scorn. 

"  You're  not  going  to  tell  me  that  blasted  tale. 
Tommy,"  she  said. 

"  Tommy  "  grinned.  The  woman  moved  with  lazy, 
half-contemptuous  grace  over  to  him,  and  the  two  went 
behind  the  glass  partition  and  shut  the  door. 

And  inside  the  room,  slowly,  reluctantly,  but  surely, 
the  crowd  melted.  Lilith's  heart  was  beating  hard.  Had 
there  been  in  the  look  the  agent  gave  her  not  exactly 
invitation  but  certainly  permission  to  stay?  Had  she 
been  left  alone  she  might  have  accepted  her  dismissal 
and  gone  with  the  others,  but  another  girl  was  staying 
also,  a  girl  in  a  transparent  black  gown  over  a  rose- 
coloured  silk  petticoat  in  a  serious  state  of  disrepair. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  133 

She  wore  a  black  velvet  jacket  that  had  once  been 
handsome,  an  imitation  ermine  wrap  cascaded  down  its 
front,  and  Lilith  suddenly  remembered  that  it  was  the 
girl  the  agent  had  called  Gladys.  Her  eyes  rested  on 
Lilith  with  an  interest  not  unfriendly. 

"  New  to  all  this,  ain't  you?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Thought  so.     What's  your  line,  my  dear?" 

"  I  don't  know — yet,"  said  Lilith,  shyly. 

"  Not  know !    Do  you  sing  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Dance?" 

"  No." 

"What  can  you  do?" 

"  Nothing  yet,"  said  Lilith,  desperately. 

"  My  Gord !  "  said  the  girl  and  tossed  one  foot  over 
the  other,  displaying  under  the  rose-coloured  silk  petti- 
coat a  foam  of  frills  that  might  have  been  cleaner.  The 
touch  of  scorn  stung  Lilith  into  self-assertion. 

"  I've  come  to  be  taught,"  she  said,  indignantly. 
"  Girls  must  be  taught  somehow,  somewhere.  I'm  quite 
young,  I  was  sixteen  last  birthday " 

"  We're  all  sixteen  when  we  first  come  here,"  re- 
marked Gladys.  "/  was,  three  years  ago."  Lilith 
stared.  Gladys  must  have  aged  rapidly  since  then. 
"  But  if  you've  come  here  to  be  taught  you've  myde  a 
mistike.     You  go " 

The  door  opened,  and  the  woman  in  the  sables  came 
out.  Tommy  looked  over  at  Gladys  with  a  half-sullen 
smile. 

"  So  you  waited  after  all,  did  you?  Well,  I'll  see  you, 
though  I  tell  you  straight  you'll  not  like  what  I've  got 
to  say.  An'  you,"  this  to  Lilith,  "  you  wait  a  bit,  too. 
If  you  care  to,  that  is,  of  course.  For  I've  nothing  for 
you,  same  as  I  said." 

The  interview  with  Gladys  was  long  and  stormy. 
Her  voice,  rising  in  shrill  but  indistinct  protest,  came 
through  the  glass  partition  and  rang  round  the  room 


134  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

where  Lilith  sat.  Very  evidently  she  did  not  Hke  what 
Tommy  had  to  say.  But  LiUth  obediently  waited,  waited 
till  Gladys  came  out  of  the  inner  mysteries  dissolved 
in  angry  tears,  and  Tommy,  his  heavy  face  a  little 
flushed  with  the  stress  of  the  last  half-hour,  stood  in 
the  doorway. 

"  Here,  you,"  he  said. 

Inside  the  glass  partition  was  a  knee-hole  desk  lit- 
tered with  papers,  a  revolving  office  chair  and  two  others 
of  the  variety  known  as  Windsor.  The  agent  took  the 
revolving  chair  and  motioned  Lilith  to  one  of  the  others. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  not  unkindly,  "  and  what  have  you 
come  here  for?  " 

Lilith  twisted  her  hands  together,  and  her  eyes  sud- 
denly blazed. 

"  I  want  to  go  on  the  stage,"  she  said. 

The  agent  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  guessed  that  much.  An'  what 
do  you  think  you're  going  to  do— on  the  stage?  Can 
you  sing?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Lilith. 

"What?" 

"'Violets,'"  answered  Lilith,  "and  'In  Absence.'" 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  agent,  gloomily,  "  I  guessed  as 
much.     Can  you  dance  ?  " 

"  Ordinary  dancing,  not  stage  dancing." 

"  H'm.  An'  you  want  me  to  shove  you  up  against 
the  footlights  and  give  you  two-hundred-and-fifty  pounds 
a  week,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Lilith,  indignantly,  "  I  shouldn't 
be  so  silly.     You  know  I  shouldn't." 

"  You,"  the  agent  went  on  unheeding,  "  that  can't 
do  anything,  that  don't  know  anything,  that  ain't  anything 
much  to  look  at,  you  come  to  me  and  say,  '  Here  I  am, 
Mr.  Thompson,  and  now  I  look  to  you  to  make  my  for- 
tune! '  I'm  likely  to  be  able  to  do  it,  when  you  come  to 
remember  that  there's  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  girls 
in  London,  girls  that  can  sing,  girls  that  can  dance,  girls 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  135 

that  are  better  looking  than  you,  girls  that  would  have 
been  every  bit  as  good  as  you  if  they'd  only  had  your 
chance,  glad  to  pick  their  daily  bread  out  o'  the  gutter. 
I'm  likely  to  be  able  to  do  it,  ain't  I  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  ask  you  to  do  it,"  returned  Lilith.  "  I  only 
asked  for — a  chance.  And  I  didn't  expect  anything 
much  to  begin  with.  I  would  have  been  contented  to 
start  right  at  the  bottom." 

The  agent  looked  up  quickly. 

"That  true?"  he  asked. 

"  Of  course  it's  true." 

"  Because  if  that  is  true,"  his  heavy-lidded  eyes  rest- 
ing in  a  steady,  unwinking  stare  upon  her  face,  "  if 
you've  come  prepared  for  hard  work  and  no  pay  and  any 
amount  of  unpleasantness  at  first — why,  I  might  be  able 
to  help  you.     Stand  up.     Let's  see  how  tall  you  are." 

Lilith  stood  up  obediently,  almost  eagerly.  Tremu- 
lous vistas  of  glory  seemed  opening  before  her.  Had 
she  attained  at  least  the  threshold  of  that  land  of  pure 
delight  her  one  glimpse  of  which  had  raised  her  to  such 
realms  of  ecstatic  expectation !  The  agent  leant  back  in 
his  chair,  put  a  quill  toothpick  in  his  mouth,  and  studied 
her. 

"  Fair  height,"  he  soliloquised,  "  an'  decent  lookin'. 
Nice  light  figger,  wants  filin'  out  a  bit,  but  that  will 
come  in  time.     Now  let's  look  at  your  legs." 

Lilith  sat  down  suddenly.  The  room  lurched  a  little 
and  turned  oddly  dark.  The  first  thing  she  consciously 
saw  was  "  Tommy's  "  face,  small  at  first  and  a  long  way 
off,  gradually  coming  nearer.  The  first  thing  she  heard 
was  her  own  voice,  oddly  different  and  also  a  long  way 
off. 

"  Is  that  absolutely  necessary  ?  " 

No  answer.  Before  Lilith's  dazed  eyes  the  room 
slowly  cleared.  At  last  she  could  assimilate  details, 
the  high  curtainless  window,  the  paper-littered  desk. 
Tommy  himself,  sitting,  one  arm  lying  on  the  knee-hole 


136  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

table,  the  other  along  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and  steadily 
regarding  her. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said  at  last,  and  there  was  a  new 
note  in  his  voice,  "  you  go  home.  You're  not  the  stuff 
of  which  chorus  girls  are  made.  I  thought  so  at  first — 
and  now  I'm  sure  of  it.  I'd  do  most  things  to  make  an 
honest  living,  but  I  don't  bring  lambs  to  the  slaughter, 
not  me.  I'm  a  family  man  myself,  and  as  straight  as  a 
die,  though  only  Gord  knows  how  difficult  it  is  among 
'em  all!  But  I  am!  An'  the  first  little  thing  I  say  to 
you,  all  in  the  way  of  bus'ness,  there  you  sit  an'  look  at 

me  as  if — as  if !     I  haven't  deserved  it,  you  know. 

I've  never  said  a  word  to  make  you  feel — so.  How  do  you 
think  you're  going  through  with  it  if  you  take  a  thing 
that's  all  in  the  way  of  bus'ness  and  that  you  can't  get 
out  of,  mind,  like  that !  My  dear,"  Tommy  rose,  "  you 
go  home !  " 

Lilith  rose,  too.  Her  golden  vistas  had  turned  to 
pits  of  lurid  flame  and  the  ashes  of  the  hopes  they  had 
scorched  up  lay  thick  about  her.  The  tears  stood  big 
and  bright  upon  her  lashes,  frozen  into  stillness  by  the 
horror  in  her  eyes.  She  shook  and  trembled  with  physi- 
cal cold.  A  dreadful  sense  of  soiling,  of  ignominy  was 
upon  her,  yet  she  was  vaguely  aware  that  it  was  not 
"  Tommy's  "  fault.  An  odd  sense  that  her  shuddering 
recoil  was  an  insult  to  him,  that  not  he  but  the  unescapy- 
able  details  of  the  life  into  which  she  would  blindly 
have  adventured,  and  of  which,  thus  fortunately  early, 
she  had  been  shown  the  bogs  and  snares,  was  over  her. 
There  was  only  one  atonement  she  could  make  and  she 
made  it.     Impulsively  she  offered  her  hand. 

"Look  here,"  said  Tommy,  and  his  voice  was  oddly 
husky,  "  you  go  home." 


XVIII 


After  which  LiHth  must  have  walked  many  miles. 
The  luncheon  hour  of  the  district  towards  which  uncon- 
sciously she  had  turned,  the  hour  which  at  home  was 
"  dinner-time,"  passed  unheeded.  It  was  afternoon  be- 
fore she  was  in  any  way  conscious  of  her  own  body,  be- 
fore, aware  of  throbbing  nerves  and  relaxing  muscles, 
of  cold  and  hunger  and  fatigue,  of  that  sudden,  causeless, 
intolerable  misery  of  mind  and  body  that  is  one  of  the 
curses  of  youth,  she  paused  to  ask  herself  whither  she 
was  going  and  why.  A  strain  of  music  arrested  her,  rich 
and  plaintive  and  low,  music  that  bore  a  suggestion  of 
warmth  and  welcome  on  its  wings.  The  girl  thrilled 
to  its  appeal.  An  open  doorway,  vague  and  shadowy, 
broke  the  line  of  buildings  on  her  left  hand,  a  doorway 
through  which  that  strain  of  unexpected  music  came,  a 
doorway  that  breathed  an  unexpected  fragrance,  alien 
and  strange.  Lilith  stood  a  moment.  Then,  that  breath 
of  welcome,  that  sigh  of  melody  constraining  her,  she 
turned  and  entered  through  the  open  door. 

It  was  a  church  in  which  she  found  herself,  a  church 
the  like  of  which  she  had  never  been  in  before.  Her 
feet  fell  noiselessly  on  the  carpeted  aisle,  the  music 
still  sobbed  softly  among  arches  lofty  and  dim,  the  scent 
of  flowers  and  of  something  else,  pungent,  aromatic, 
pleasantly  strange  to  puritan  nostrils,  hung  in  the  air. 
A  rosy  light  glowed  like  a  crimson  star  in  the  dusky 
distance  before  her,  a  masculine  voice  of  exquisite  beauty, 
a  voice  with  a  throb  of  supplication  in  it,  rose  and  fell 
in  plaintive  modulation  somewhere  in  the  gloomL  Other 
voices,  hushed  but  beseeching,  answered  it;  every  now 
and  then  the  organ  throbbed  in  sympathy,  and  over  all 

137 


138  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

brooded  a  sense  of  solace  and  purity,  of  peace  and  rest. 
With  a  quick  sob,  half  of  exhaustion,  half  of  almost 
painful  response  to  her  surroundings,  Lilith  dropped 
on  her  knees.  Had  she  at  last,  at  last,  found  the  springs 
of  deepest  joy? 

It  was  some  time  before  the  girl,  worn  out  with 
weariness,  was  actually  conscious  of  what  was  passing 
about  her,  some  time  before  there  was  room  in  her  mind 
for  anything  but  an  indescribable  sense  of  her  soul's  hav- 
ing entered  into  its  heritage.  But  at  last,  when  her 
eyes  had  become  partially  accustomed  to  the  low  light 
and  could  see,  when  her  senses  had  partially  recovered 
from  the  numbness  of  overstrain  and  could  perceive,  she 
became  aware  that  someone  was  speaking,  speaking  in  a 
musical  monotone  that  strove  in  vain  to  curb  and  emascu- 
late the  fire  of  conviction  behind  it.  A  young  priest  was 
standing  on  the  chancel  step.  A  last  ray  from  the  early 
November  sunset  found  its  way  through  the  west  window 
and  touched  him  with  its  pale  and  ineffectual  fire.  His 
hand  was  raised,  his  lips,  beautifully  curved,  lay  softly 
together  as  he  paused  a  moment,  lost  in  thought;  his 
eyes,  rapt  and  mystical,  blazed  in  the  strong  shaft  of 
orange-coloured  light  that  flung  its  sudden  halo  round 
him,  throwing  warm  gules  of  crimson  and  blue  in  faint 
radiance  across  his  white  surplice.  Lilith's  heart  sprang 
and  hung  suspended  on  a  painful  beat.  So  might  have 
looked  St.  Stephen  when  Heaven  opened  to  his  dying 
eyes.  So  might  St.  Alban  have  gazed  into  the  sunset  as 
his  soul,  conscious  already  of  its  wings,  awaited  the 
dawning  of  the  morrow.  What  was  he  saying  to  a  merry 
and  unheeding  world,  out  of  whose  thronging  thousands, 
as  of  old,  only  a  few  devoted  women  turned  aside  to 
hear?  Unconsciously  Lilith's  whole  body  swayed  lightly 
towards  him,  this  evangel,  stern  and  sweet,  crying  his 
message  in  the  ears  of  unwilling  men. 

"  What  matters,  then,  our  knowledge  of  our  own 
vileness,  our  bitter  sense  of  soiling  and  of  sin?  Lo? 
I  am  not  my  own,  but  Christ's,  Who  dwelleth  in  me. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  139 

One  with  Him.  Part  of  Him.  All  our  imperfections 
drowned  in  the  sea  of  His  perfection,  all  our  stains 
washed  out  in  the  blood  of  His  purity.  Lord,  in  pity 
Thou  hast  done  this,  in  pity  to  poor  humanity,  so  close 
to  earth,  yet  so  desirous  of  Heaven.  We  thirst  for  His 
righteousness,  and  it  is  ours.  He  Himself  shows  us  the 
way.  He  Himself  has  given  us  His  sacraments,  golden 
chains  by  which  we  may  bind  ourselves  fast  to  God. 
Lay,  then,  hold  of  them.  Come  through  the  waters  of 
baptism,  the  purifying  of  penance,  to  where  He  awaits 
you — on  His  altar.  Seize,  then,  these  golden  chains,  and 
bind  yourselves  fast  to  God,  losing  our  unrighteousness 
in  His  righteousness,  covering  our  errors  with  His  in- 
fallible, His  unshakable,  His  unspeakable  good.  Lord, 
we  are  not  ourselves ;  we  are  Thee.  Hast  Thou  not  led 
us  out  of  the  world,  where  snares  and  pitfalls  await  us, 
and  brought  us  here  where  Thou  art?  Here,  where 
God  is.  Think  of  it.  Not  only  are  we  with  God.  We 
are  part  of  God.  How,  then,  shall  anyone  harm  us? 
Who,  then,  shall  pluck  us  away  from  Him?  Realise  it. 
Fall  on  your  knees,  here,  now,  and  make  an  act  of  one- 
ness with  God " 

A  sound  of  subdued  movement  rustled  through  the 
stillness ;  the  warm  air  shook  with  the  murmur  of  many 
voices,  moved  and  low.  Lilith  heard  neither.  In  her 
state  of  physical  and  mental  exhaustion  the  exultation 
and  mysticism  of  the  speaker's  words  had  thundered 
through  her  half-detached  soul.  Prone  on  her  face  in  the 
shelter  of  the  pew,  empty  but  for  herself,  Lilith  lay 
dizzy,  entranced,  only  half  conscious.  Had  she  not 
longed  for,  laboured  after,  strained  towards  that  land 
where  dwell  hope  and  satisfaction,  purity  and  peace! 
To  it,  at  last,  had  she  found  a  leader  indeed? 

Sunday  seemed  long  in  coming,  and  not  until  Sunday 
did  it  seem  possible  to  Lilith  (accustomed  to  a  week  in 
which  Wednesday  only  was  kept  holy)  to  go  to  church 
again.  But  when  Sunday  came,  Lilith  was  early  at 
St.  Alphege.     In  the  clear  light  of  a  bright  morning  the 


140  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

church  was  less  mysterious,  even  a  little  less  holy.  It 
was  filling  fast  with  worshippers,  worshippers  regularly 
divided,  the  men  at  one  side,  the  women  at  the  other, 
after  a  fashion  that  seemed  to  Lilith  at  one  moment  decor- 
ous, at  the  next  hardly  decent.  She  went  with  a  certain 
sense  of  home-coming  to  the  seat  that,  had  sheltered  her 
before,  and  no  one  said  her  nay. 

But  the  service  seemed  to  her  wholly  unfamiliar. 
Little  boys  in  red  and  white  robes  moved,  to  all  appear- 
ance, aimlessly  from  one  part  of  the  chancel  to  another; 
candles  were  carried  about ;  little  bells  rang  at  intervals, 
an  innovation  at  which  Lilith  could  not  decide  whether 
she  was  outraged  or  impressed ;  someone  enveloped,  al- 
most hidden,  in  a  robe  stiff  with  gorgeous  and  barbaric 
embroidery  sweetly  intoned  syllables  and  sentences  of 
which  she  could  make  nothing;  and  nowhere,  nowhere 
could  she  find  him  who  had  pointed  out  to  her  a  day  or 
two  before,  with  such  an  unfaltering  hand,  the  way  to 
peace.  The  accessories  were  there.  Lilith  felt  herself 
once  again  responding  with  almost  painful  eagerness  to 
this  new  world  of  music,  colour,  light,  warmth  and  de- 
votion, but  where  was  he  who  should  have  been  her 
leader  along  these  unfamiliar  paths  to  righteousness? 
Perhaps  he  would  preach.  Perhaps  once  again  she  might 
be  privileged  to  listen  to  his  winged  words  as  his  soul, 
rapt  and  eager,  soared  upwards  to  the  feet  of  God,  whilst 
hers,  on  faltering  and  unaccustomed  pinions,  yearned 
after  him.  But  no.  A  stout  and  cheerful  priest  with 
a  shrewd  eye  and  a  genial  mouth  gave  an  eminently 
practical  little  discourse  on  the  duty  of  an  exact  and  pain- 
ful truthfulness,  brought  it  down  to  daily  life  by  more 
than  one  homely  and  forcible  example  and  was  evidently 
quite  prepared  for  the  smiles  that  greeted  the  glint  of 
humour  in  his  exhortation.  It  did  not  touch  Lilith  very 
deeply ;  she  was  honest  already,  and  though  she  endorsed 
every  one  of  his  conclusions,  a  practical  tonic  of  this 
kind  was  not  what  she  had  hoped  for.  But  the  sermon 
over  and  the  hymn  sung  a  sudden  hush,  brooding,  mys- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  141 

terious,  awful,  descended  upon  that  kneeling  crowd. 
Ceremonial  deepened;  the  voice  of  the  celebrant  was 
hushed  and  low ;  the  organ  wailed  and  sobbed  one  mo^ 
ment  and  rose  in  yearning  music  the  next,  little  puffs 
of  pale  blue  fragrance,  unfamiliar,  sharply  arresting, 
deeply  impressive,  floated  out  on  the  warm  air  to  curl 
upwards  and  die  in  the  vastness  and  dimness  overhead. 
Lower  and  lower  crouched  the  worshippers  around  her, 
and,  awed  and  wondering  but  as  yet  untouched  by  deeper 
feeling,  Lilith  crouched  with  them.  And  then,  with  a 
rush  of  sweetness,  painful,  almost  overwhelming,  came 
certainty.  She  knew^  the  low  tones,  vibrant  and  musical, 
that  pulsed  on  the  air  all  a-thrill  with  adoration — to 
Lilith  filled,  almost  visibly  filled,  with  presences  unfa- 
miliar and  holy.  The  voice  was  the  voice  of  the  evangel, 
stern  and  sweet,  who  had  first  wakened  her  soul  to  an 
active  consciousness  of  its  needs.  There  was  no  lack 
of  response  now.  Why  the  tears  came  she  could  not  have 
told — but  they  did.  Through  a  burst  of  rich  and  trium- 
phant melody,  through  the  benediction  impressive  and 
earnest  that  followed  Lilith  knelt  on,  her  head  hidden  in 
her  arms,  her  whole  being  floating  in  a  sea  of  vague 
emotion.  She  was  aware  suddenly  that  the  congregation 
was  melting.  Ladies,  one  at  either  side  of  her,  rose  and 
made  their  way  into  a  crowded  aisle ;  Lilith,  her  eyes  all 
a-shine  with  recent  weeping,  every  trace  of  bitterness 
softened  out  of  the  curves  of  her  mutinous  red  mouth, 
rose,  too,  and  followed  them-. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  church,  two  men  were  standing, 
men  in  long  black  gowns  tied  about  the  middle  with  a 
cord,  and  odd  black  caps  set,  diamond-wise,  upon  their 
heads.  The  one  was  short  and  stout,  with  a  well-closed 
shrewd  mouth  and  blue  eyes  set  in  genial  wrinkles,  but 

the  other What  manner  of  man  he  was  Lilith  could 

hardly  have  told,  but  to  something  in  him,  the  spiritual 
essence  of  him,  so  to  speak,  her  whole  being  responded. 
She  was  conscious  of  a  rush  of  unexplained  feeling  that 
turned  her  limbs  to  lead  and  her  heart  to  fainting.    A 


142  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

flood  of  colour  enveloped  her  and  died  down,  leaving  her 
oddly  white.  His  face  came  and  went  before  her  vision, 
and  in  her  wide  and  changing  eyes  lay  that  adoration 
which  is  due  never  to  mortal  man,  but  only  to  God.  It 
affected  him  vaguely,  uncertainly,  even  while  the  girl 
was  twenty  feet  away.  He  was  conscious  of  her  ap- 
proach even  before  he  turned  and  allowed  his  steady 
look,  sweetly  severe,  to  rest  upon  her  face.  He  had  been 
shaking  hands,  a  little  shyly,  with  those  of  his  congrega- 
tion who  cared  to  stop  and  speak  to  him  while  the  elder 
priest  was  taking  down  rapidly  in  a  pocket-book  the 
names  and  addresses  of  those  who  wished  him  to  visit 
them.  This  face,  delicate,  alluring,  pathetically  young, 
was  new.  It  was  to  his  vicar,  that  Lilith,  if  she  wished 
to  enroll  herself  among  his  flock,  should  address  herself. 
He  glanced  again  at  the  girl  whose  eyes,  questioning, 
imploring,  soft  with  unconscious  admiration,  were  raised 
so  sweetly  to  his  own,  and  his  colour,  though  he  was  not 
aware  of  it,  rose  a  little.  A  vague  discomfort,  a  hint 
of  possible  difficulty  as  yet  undefined,  rose  mistily  in  his 
mind,  clouded  for  the  moment  the  clear  sweetness  of  his 
look.  With  a  gesture,  almost  an  involuntary  gesture, 
he  would  have  passed  this  new  disciple  over  to  his  vicar, 
whose  hand,  capable  and  experienced,  had  fashioned 
many  such  a  young  soul  pathetically  ignorant  of  its  own 
impulses  into  worthy  womanhood,  but  drawn  irresistibly, 
it  was  to  him,  not  to  the  vicar,  Lilith  came.  Half  mechani- 
cally he  offered  his  hand;  half  unconsciously  Lilith  laid 
hers,  cold  and  trembling  in  its  well-mended  brown  silk 
glove,  within  it.  The  young  priest  bent  a  little  with 
gentleness.  Not  so  much  the  child's  beauty  as  a  certain 
unusual  and  elusive  quality  in  that  beauty  made  upon 
him  a  sudden  strong  appeal. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  help  me." 

He  straightened  himself.  Unconsciously,  his  fingers 
closed  on  the  hand  he  held  in  mute  assurance.  That  cry, 
half  smothered   from  an  unquiet  and  unsatisfied  soul, 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  143 

had  touched  him.  But  once  again  out  of  the  vague  came 
the  faint  forewarning  of  difficulty,  almost  of  danger. 

"  Stand  here  a  moment,"  he  said  abruptly. 

Lilith  drew  back  a  little,  aware  of  rest  too  profound 
for  words.  The  last  few  claimants  of  the  vicar's  atten- 
tion were  being  disposed  of,  with  kindly  briskness,  one 
by  one. 

"  This — ^young  lady,"  began  the  younger  man  with  a 
touch  of  hesitancy. 

"Hey?"  said  the  vicar  crisply,  his  shrewd  bright 
glance  suddenly  enveloping  her,  and  then  "  Is  there  any- 
thing the  matter,  my  child  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Lilith,  "  I  am  so  unhappy." 

"  There  is  only  one  way  to  be  happy  and  that  is  to 
be  good,"  said  the  vicar,  and  the  conviction  in  his  voice 
endowed  even  the  time-honoured  formula  with  freshness. 

"  Then  will  you  teach  me  how  ?  "  asked  Lilith,  lifting 
a  lovely  look. 

At  eleven  o'clock  that  night  the  vicar  was  sitting  by 
the  fire  in  a  cushionless  chair  in  the  bare  little  study  in 
the  clergy-house.  He  had  had  an  exhausting  day,  but 
it  was  over,  and  as  he  thriftily  turned  his  shabby  cas- 
sock up  over  his  knees,  stretched  his  slippered  feet  to 
the  fire  and  filled  his  pipe,  he  sighed  the  long  sigh  of 
the  tired  man.  His  curate  was  still  writing  busily  at 
the  knee-hole  table  under  a  garish  gas-jet  in  the  middle 
of  the  room. 

"  Dorrington,"  he  said  presently,  "  about  that  girl 
who  spoke  to  you  this  morning."  Dorrington  laid  down 
his  pen  and  raised  his  head.  "  She  must  be  confirmed, 
of  course,  she's  sixteen — ^but  no  one  seems  to  have 
thought  of  it  yet.  Nonconformist  family — ^but  she 
doesn't  seem  to  anticipate  any  trouble.  She'd  better  join 
your  class;  don't  you  think  so?" 

But  Norman  Dorrington  hesitated. 

"  I — wasn't  sure,"  he  said  presently.  "  You  see  my 
girls — are  not  quite  her  style.     They're  rather  a  rough 


144  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

lot,  though,"  with  a  quick  smile,  "they're  the  dearest 
girls  anywhere.     But  they're  not  quite  her  style." 

"  Do  her  good,"  said  the  vicar  bluntly.  "  We  want 
a  sense  of  sisterhood  among  the  women  even  more  than 
we  want  a  sense  of  brotherhood  among  the  men.  I 
think  you  had  better  take  her  on,  unless " — suddenly 
aware  of  Dorrington's  hesitation — "  there's  any  definite 
reason  against  it." 

"  Oh,  no,"  Dorrington's  reply  came  quick.  "  It  was 
only  that  I  thought  she  might  require  a  little  different 
handling  from  the  others.  And  you  are — so  experi- 
enced, you  would  understand — her  needs,  perhaps,  better 
than  I  should." 

The  vicar  shook  his  head. 

"  Your  penitents  are  a  more  promising  lot  than 
mine,"  he  said  slowly.  "  In  my  opinion  you  are  aston- 
ishingly successful.  I've  envied  you  your  power  of 
touching  souls  more  than  once.  I  think  you'd  better 
take  the  direction  of  this  one,  too.  Unless,  of  course, 
as  I  said  before,  you  see  any  special  reason  against  it." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  at  all,"  said  Dorrington  with  a  trace 
of  hurry. 


XIX 


Business  was  brisk  in  the  Canonbury  Road.  The 
five  great  globe  lamps  outside  "  Morley's  "  shed  their 
orange-coloured  radiance  far  away  on  either  hand.  They 
lit  up  the  unfamiliar  dainties,  brightly  touched  here  and 
there  with  unexpected  colour,  tastefully  arranged, 
sharply  appealing  to  jaded  appetites,  in  the  provision 
window.  They  shone  down  upon  the  steady  stream 
of  customers  passing  in  at  one  great  door  and  out  at  the 
other,  and  touched  with  a  gleam  of  gold  the  smooth 
sweep  of  Algernon's  ash-coloured  hair  and  deepened  the 
blue  of  his  eyes  as  he  stood  in  his  accustomed  place  be- 
hind the  cheese  and  bacon  counter.  Algernon  was  tired  ; 
he  had  had  nearly  thirteen  hours'  almost  continuous 
work,  work  that  made  demands  upon  both  mind  and 
muscle,  work  that  called  for  both  accuracy  of  hand  and 
quickness  of  brain,  but  no  one  would  have  guessed  it  as 
he  turned,  with  alert  look  and  ready  smile,  to  the  next 
in  the  line  of  customers,  customers  who  had  passed  his 
particular  little  space  of  marble  counter  in  unending 
succession  since  eight  o'clock  that  morning.  His  face 
fell  a  little  when  he  saw  who  it  was.  Not  much  in  the 
w^ay  of  an  order  could  be  hoped  for  from  the  untidy 
little  lodging-house  slavey,  with  a  smudge  under  one 
eye  and  her  cap  over  one  ear,  who  was  plainly  exacting 
more  from  one  small  string  bag  in  the  way  of  carrying 
capacity  than  she  had  any  right  to  expect.  But  his 
"  An'  what  for  you,  miss  ?  "  lacked  nothing  in  obliging- 
ness and  interest. 

"  'Arf  a  pound  of  bycon,  streaky,  an'  cut  it  thin, 
will  you.  She  only  'lows  'arf-a-pound  of  bycon  for 
breakfast  Sunday  morning,  an'  there's  six  of  *em  an' 

lo  145 


146  THE  END  OF  THE  R^ilNBOW 

they're  all  hungry.  Of  course,  there's  no  more  bycon 
in  one  slice  thin  than  in  'arf  a  slice  thick " 

*'  But  it  looks  better,  quite  so,"  finished  Alg'non,  as 
fairy  slices  of  "  streaky "  fell  before  his  rapid  knife. 
"  Butter,  miss  ?  " 

"  No,  margarine,  it  doesn't  run  to  butter  nowadays. 
Times  is  'ard,  Mr.  Watkins.  'Arf-a-pound  an'  a  quarter 
over-weight,  that's  right,  isn't  it?  An'  six-penn'orth  of 
heggs,  sixteen  to  the  shillin';  I  'ope  she'll  boil  'em  her- 
self, for  they  alius  crack  if  I  do  it  an'  then  I  ketches  it. 
An*  'ow're  you,  Mr.  Watkins?" 

Alg'non  drew  a  long  breath.  There  was  a  percept- 
ible lull  in  the  stream  of  buyers.  He  might  solace  him- 
self with  a  little  sympathy  before  another  and  perhaps 
more  profitable  customer  should  compel  him  to  say, 
"  Pay  at  the  desk,  please,  miss,"  to  this  one. 

"  Can't  say  as  I'm  much  happier,"  he  said  gloomily. 

"  Lor,  wot  a  shyme." 

She  had  put  the  bulging  bag  on  the  counter  and 
over  the  crisp  freshness  of  the  cabbage  whose  green  frills 
closed  its  mouth  her  grimy  little  face  looked  at  him, 
flushed  and  indignant.  Alg'non  drank  deep  of  the  pity 
in  her  eyes  and  sighed  again. 

"  Is  she  as  scornful-like  as  ever?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  exactly  say  that,"  absently  twisting  the 
cheese-wire  in  a  wide  loop  round  his  finger.  "  She's 
gentler  than  she  used  to  be,  a  lot,  and  kinder  like,  to 
hevery  body.  But  cold !  " — with  a  shake  of  his  head — 
"  cold  as  hice." 

LiHan-Blanche  laid  her  hands  on  the  edge  of  the 
marble  slab  and  gripped  it  hard. 

"  Won't  she  ever  be  any  diff 'rent,  should  you  think  ?  " 

"  Not  to  me,"  returned  Alg'non  with  dreadful  cer- 
tainty. "  I've  done  my  best,  and  she  treats  me  like  the 
dirt  beneath  her  feet.  I  don't  mean  she's  rude  to  me, 
she  used  to  be,  but  she  isn't  now.  I  only  mean  that  if  I 
was — well,  that  wisp  of  straw  there,  lyin'  on  the  ground 
she  couldn't  think  less  of  me  than  what  she  does." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  147 

Lilian-Blanche  gazed  at  him  lost  in  the  pathos — 
and  the  wonder! — of  his  revelations,  her  mistress's  in- 
junctions, her  own  promises,  the  work  of  Saturday  night 
and  the  claims  of  Sunday  morning  all  forgotten.  It  was 
an  odd  confidante  that  Algernon  had  chosen;  the  fact 
struck  him  with  redoubled  force  to-night  as  he  contem- 
plated the  untidy  wisps  of  black  hair  under  her  grimy 
cap  and  the  smudge  across  her  cheek.  But  the  ardent 
admiration  in  Lilian-Blanche's  eyes,  in  poignant  contrast 
to  the  contemptuous  indifference  in  Lilith's,  had  forced 
his  trouble  from  him,  and  now  he  almost  looked  forward 
to  the  chance  of  reporting  his  progress,  or  rather  his 
utter  lack  of  progress,  in  Lilith's  regard  to  a  friend  so 
sympathetic — and  so  sceptical. 

"  It  isn't  as  if  I  was  a  conceited  chap,"  Alg'non  went 
on,  drearily  contemplating  his  astonishing  failure  to 
waken  Lilith  to  a  due  appreciation.  "  S'prises  me,  some- 
times, considering  what  sort  of  a  young  man  I  am,  that 
I  ain't  more  conceited.  But  I  do  know  the  treatment  I've 
a  right  to  expect.  An'  I've  no  right  to  expect  to  be 
treated  like  she  treats  me." 

"  But  I  thought  you  said  as  she  wasn't  rude  to  you, 
now." 

"  She  isn't,  not  now.  She's  nicer  to  everyone,  she's 
a  better  girl  altogether  since  she's  joined  this  new  church 
of  hers.  Makes  it  'arder  for  me,  in  a  way.  I'd  rather  she 
was  rude  to  me  sometimes,  like  she  used  to  be." 

"Church!     'As  she  joined  a  church?" 

"  Yes,  a  church  somewheres  in  the  West-end.  Won- 
derful place  it  must  be,  too,  with  vestments  and  hincense 
an'  any  amount  of  flummery.  I'm  not  easy  about  it  in 
my  mind,  at  all.  Sheer  Popery,  that's  what  I  call  it, 
some  of  it." 

"  But  if  it  makes  her  a  better  girl." 

"  Well,  something  has,"  agreed  Alg'non,  a  little 
grudgingly.  "  It  may  be  that  an'  it  may  not.  'Ere,  I'm 
busy — an'  it's  time  you  was  'ome.  An'  what,"  turning 
to  a  new  customer,  "  what  for  you,  miss  ?  " 


148  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Tears  were  in  Lilian-Blanche's  eyes,  tears  of  pure 
selflessness,  as  she  made  her  way  out  of  "  Morley's." 
To  think  that  he,  he! — should  have  been  selected  by 
blind  fate  to  suffer  the  cruel  smart  of  rejected  affection. 
Lilian-Blanche  wiped  away  a  big  drop  with  the  back 
of  her  hand  and  left  a  clean  patch  in  its  place. 

"  I've  never  seen  anyone  like  'im  before,"  she  told 
herself,  "  an'  I  don't  think  I  hever  shall  again.  An'  to 
think  that  she  can't  see  it.  I  wish  Hi  could  talk  to  her 
for  'arf  a  minute.     Hi'd  tell  her,  so  I  would." 

The  March  wind  swept  icily  up  the  street,  making 
little  eddies  of  straw  and  paper  in  corners.  The  piles 
of  violets  on  the  baskets  of  the  flower  girls  had  given 
place  now  to  "  narcissi "  of  every  variety.  One  girl 
stepped  forward  and  thrust  a  handful  of  red  rosebuds 
into  Lilian-Blanche's  face.  "  Penny  heach,"  she  said. 
Lilian-Blanche  put  her  bulging  string  bag  on  the  pave- 
ment and  set  her  foot  on  it  for  safety.  Then  from  a 
pocket  undiscoverable  by  anyone  except  herself  she  ex- 
tracted a  handkerchief  that  had  once  been  white,  untied 
with  her  teeth  a  knot  in  one  corner  of  it,  and  took  out  a 
penny.  Then  for  a  moment  she  hesitated,  but  only  for 
a  moment. 

"  I'd  never  dare  to  give  it  him,"  she  told  herself, 
"  but  at  least  I  can  fancy  what  it  'ud  look  like  in  'is 
Sunday  coat." 

Breakfast  was  later  on  Sunday  morning  at  17  Cal- 
thorpe  Road.  If  Mrs.  Somers  "  had  them  all  together  " 
by  nine  o'clock  she  was  quite  satisfied.  Breakfast  at  nine 
o'clock  was  a  luxury  after  the  half-past  seven  meal  of 
every  other  day  in  the  week,  and  nine  o'clock,  in  Mrs. 
Somers'  opinion,  "  was  late  enough  for  hennybody." 
But  at  ten  minutes  past  nine  on  this  particular  Sunday 
morning  one  chair  still  stood  empty.  Alg'on's  eyes  went 
over  to  it  almost  against  his  will.  Mrs.  Somers  followed 
the  direction  of  his  glance  and  sighed. 

"  Oh,  she's  up,  right  enough,"  she  said  crisply,  "  she's 
at  church,  that's  where  she  is.     Not  that  I  mind  the  gel 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  149 

going  to  church — but  I  wish  she's  go  at  reasonable 
hours." 

"  An'  there's  a  Httle  too  much  of  it,  mother,  don't 
you  think  so  ?  "  said  Jane  doubtfully.  "  Church  of  a 
Sunday,  well,  of  course  one  looks  for  that.  But  it's 
been  every  day  this  week,  mornin',  noon,  and  night.  It's 
wearin'  the  girl  out." 

"  'Tisn't  that  that's  wearin'  of  her  out ;  it's  that  silly 
fastin',"  returned  Mrs.  Somers  with  a  touch  of  heat. 
"  Lilith  was  never  a  strong  girl,  she  never  ate  more'n 
would  keep  a  sparrer  alive,  an'  now  she  won't  have  any 
meat  Wednesdays  an'  Fridays,  not  even  a  bit  of  bacon 
for  'er  breakfast,  an'  no  milk  in  'er  tea,  an'  two  days  a 
week  no  butter  on  'er  bread.  Downright  foolishness,  I 
call  it.  If  I  knew  who  was  responsible  for  'er  goings-on 
I'd  write  an'  complain." 

"  An'  there's  that  little  sort  of  altar-thing  in  her  bed- 
room," went  on  Emily  with  a  giggle.  "  Never  see  such 
a  thing  before,  I  didn't." 

"  Altar !  "  echoed  Algernon  blankly. 

"  'Tisn't  an  altar,  my  gel,"  reproved  her  mother. 

"  Well,  it  looks  like  one,  anyway,"  returned  Em'ly 
tartly.  "  It's  got  two  little  brass  vawses  on  it  with 
flowers  in,  and  two  little  brass  candlesticks  with  candles, 
real  candles,  that  light.  An'  she  keeps  her  Bible  an' 
her  Prayerbook  on  the  ledge." 

"  Bible,"  said  Alg'non  with  a  long  breath  of  relief. 
"  If  she's  got  her  Bible  there  it's  right  enough." 

"  It  isn't  an  altar,"  repeated  the  mother,  ruffling  up 
in  defence  of  her  absent  chick,  "  it's  a  prayer-desk.  She 
says  so  herself." 

"  Well,  whatever  it  is  I  wouldn't  have  it  in  my  house," 
remarked  Jane  with  unexpected  decision.  "  An'  I 
wouldn't  have  her  crossing  herself  either," 

"  Crossing  herself !  " 

"  Here  she  is,"  said  Jane.  "  You  watch  her,  when 
she  sits  down  to  table.     Just  watch  her." 

Lilith  came  in  almost  at  the  moment;  she  had  left 


150  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

her  hat  and  jacket  in  the  "  drawing-room "  upstairs. 
There  was  a  lambent  Hght  in  her  eyes  and  a  touch  of 
exaltation  in  her  manner  that  was  the  product  of  the  last 
four  months,  and  as  she  made  her  way  round  to  her  empty 
chair  a  subtle  suggestion  of  detachment,  a  sense  that 
she  was  among,  but  not  of,  these  the  members  of  her  own 
family,  her  close  kith  and  kin,  made  itself  more  or  less 
clearly  felt  by  everyone  in  the  room.  Lilith  herself,  still 
rapt  away  from  the  vexatious  details  of  daily  life  by  re- 
cent excitement  that  she  took  to  be  spiritual,  was  not 
aware  of  it,  was  hardly  aware  that  there  were  any  others 
in  the  room.  But  gradually  she  became  aware  of  it,  be- 
came aware  also  that  she  was  about  deliberately  to  outrage 
prejudices,  to  defy  traditions  that  were  sacred.  For  a 
moment  her  courage  failed  her.  Then  as  she  stood  by  her 
chair  before  taking  her  place  at  the  table,  quite  openly 
and  very  gravely  she  touched  herself  with  the  fingers  of 
her  right  hand  on  brow  and  breast  and  both  shoulders, 
.and  then,  her  hand  resting  lightly  over  a  heart  beating 
a  little  higher  than  its  wont,  she  slipped  noiselessly  into 
her  seat.  Mrs.  Somers  put  down  the  coffee-pot  from 
which  she  was  filling  Lilith's  cup  and  turned  oddly  white. 

"  Lilith,"  she  said,  "  I  won't  'ave  it.  I  won't  'ave 
it  in  my  house." 

Lilith  said  nothing,  but  a  touch  of  profound  satisfac- 
tion leapt  into  her  pretty  face.  Had  she  not  longed  for 
martyrdom,  and  was  it  not  already  hers! — ^the  martyr- 
dom of  the  believer  despised,  reviled,  persecuted  for  con- 
science' sake.  Mechanically  she  began  to  eat  the  half- 
cold  bacon  Jane  had  put  upon  her  plate.  Never  in  her 
life  before  had  she  filled  a  position  more  exactly  to  her 
taste.  Her  mother  looked  at  her  in  mute  distress.  Vi- 
sions, vague  and  awful,  of  seven  hills  and  scarlet  women 
came  and  went  in  the  background  of  her  mind.  Her 
voice  when  she  spoke  broke  pathetically. 

"  You  tell  me  you're  not  a  Catholic,"  she  said,  "  an' 
I  believe  you,  for  whatever  else  you  are  you've  always 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  151 

been  trewthful.  But  the  things  'at  you  do  is  Catholic, 
an'  I'll  not  'ave  them  in  my  'ouse,  Lilith,  I  won't  indeed." 

Lilith  laid  down  her  knife  and  fork,  and  the  light  in 
her  eyes  now  was  more  martial  than  martyr-like. 

"  I  never  said  I  wasn't  a  Catholic,  mother,"  she  re- 
turned.    "  I  said  I  wasn't  a  Roynan  Catholic." 

The  distress  in  Mrs.  Somers'  face  deepened;  dis- 
tinctions so  subtle  were  not  for  her. 

"  Lilith,  a  plain  question  should  get  a  plain  answer. 
Are  you  a  Catholic  or  are  you  not?  "  she  demanded. 

"  In  your  sense,  no,  mother,  I'm  not." 

"  There !  "  said  Mrs.  Somers  tragically,  "  an'  she 
calls  that  a  plain  answer." 

Lilith  drank  her  half-cold  coflfee  and  said  nothing. 
Her  relatives,  she  felt,  would  be  quite  incapable  of  enter- 
ing into  her  recent  spiritual  experiences  or  understanding 
her  present  mental  position.  Why,  then,  endeavour  to 
explain?  A  certain  subtle  enjoyment  of  the  superiority 
of  her  own  silence  flavoured  her  rhubarb  jam. 

It  was  an  orderly  household ;  even  Emily  "  behaved 
herself "  on  Sunday.  Bedrooms  were  left  irreproach- 
able before  the  family  betook  itself  to  its  devotions.  The 
others  hurried  away,  each  to  her  different  task,  but  Lilith 
sat  on ;  she  had  been  up  abnormally  early  and  her  bed 
was  already  made.  Alg'non  lingered  a  wistful  moment 
in  the  hope  that  she  would  speak  to  him,  but  as  she  was, 
to  all  appearance,  unaware  of  his  presence,  he  wandered 
listlessly  out  of  the  room.  Lilith  heard  him  climbing 
slowly.  Then  her  mother's  voice,  with  a  note  of  excite- 
ment in  it,  reached  her  all  the  way  downstairs. 

"  Alg'non,  that  you  ?  Come  here.  Come  here  and 
look  at  this." 

Lilith  leant  forward,  her  hands. pressed  hard  together 
in  her  lap. 

"  She's  found  it,"  she  said. 

On  the  threshold  of  Lilith's  room  stood  Algernon. 
Never  before  had  he  even  glanced  through  the  door,  and 
now  he  came  no  further  than  the  threshold.    Something  in 


152  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

its  silence,  its  spotlessness,  seemed  to  check  his  heart  and 
stifle  his  breathing — but  he  saw  in  one  rapid  glance  the 
blue  ribbon  bows  on  the  window  and  bed  curtains,  some- 
thing silver,  awe-inspiring  in  its  unfamiliarity,  on  the 
toilet  table,  and  fragrant  sprays  of  white  narcissus,  aston- 
ishing innovation,  in  two  tall  glasses  on  the  mantelpiece. 
And  then  he  saw  Mrs.  Somers,  Mrs.  Somers  with  hand 
dramatically  outflung  towards  a  tiny  faldstool  bearing  tiny 
vases  and  candlesticks  of  brass,  having  on  its  sloping 
ledge  a  Bible  and  a  Prayerbook  and  above  it  a  crucifix. 

"  Graven  images,"  said  poor  Mrs.  Somers,  "  in  my 
'ouse." 

A  light  step  filled  the  silence,  Lilith  was  coming  up- 
stairs. Algernon  shrank  into  the  background,  aware 
suddenly  of  an  intrusion  almost  indecent.  His  own  room 
was  the  next.  One  spring  and  he  was  inside  it,  and 
sheltered  by  the  partly  open  door.  He  heard  the  tense 
pause  that  followed  Lilith's  arrival,  and  then  he  heard 
Mrs.  Somers'  voice. 

"  Lilith,  I'll  not  'ave  it.  I'll  have  no  Popish  idols 
here.  We're  a  Protestant  family,  an'  Protestant  we'll 
remain  so  long  as  I  be  mestress  here,"  dropping  uncon- 
sciously into  the  almost  forgotten  Berkshire  of  her  youth. 
"  You'll  tek  it  away,  my  gel.  Wherever  it  come  from, 
you'll  tek  it  back." 

"  And  suppose  I  won't,  mother  ?  " 

For  a  moment  the  mother,  all  a-thrill  with  protest 
whose  roots  went  far  beyond  her  ken,  stood  gazing  at 
the  daughter,  rebel,  unfamiliar,  incomprehensible,  that 
her  own  earnest  efforts  for  the  child's  best  good  had 
created.  Then  a  sudden  desperate  resolve  leapt  into 
her  eyes,  a  resolve  that  brought  a  dull  red  into  her  face 
and  a  horrible  fear  into  her  heart. 

"  Then  I'll— I'll  brek  it,  Lilith." 

"  Mother,  you  daren't !  " 

^"  An'  I  daren't,  Jane,"  she  acknowledged,  with  tears 
on  Jane's  kind  shoulder  when,  obsessed  by  a  dim  rever- 
ence the  product  of  ages  of  adoration  before  ever  the 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  153 

spirit  of  revolt  was  born,  she  had  left  the  crucifix  on  its 
nail  and  Lilith  trembling  but  victorious  upon  the  field. 
"/  must  be  an  idolator,  same  as  she  is  herself.  For  I 
ought  to  ha'  broken  it,  an'  I  daren't,  Jane." 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  can,  Lilith,"  remonstrated 
Jane  when  the  two  met  in  the  tiny  "  'all,"  each  going  their 
several  ways  to  worship  the  God  of  their  fathers.  "  What- 
ever you  do  in  church,  you  needn't  bring  'arlotry  of  that 
sort  'ome." 

"  One  must  do  what  one  thinks  is  right,"  said  Lilith 
slowly,  and  there  was  a  touch  of  indecision,  almost  appeal 
in  her  voice,  for  her  victory  had  proved  in  the  end  surpris- 
ingly barren  of  satisfaction.  "  Everyone  has  to  suffer 
something — for  their  religion." 

"  Right,"  echoed  Jane  indignantly.  "  Do  you  think 
it  right  to  shock  everybody  an'  separate  yourself  from 
your  own  family,  an'  grieve  a  good  mother  in  this  way? 
If  you  were  really  a  good  girl,  Lilith,  you'd  do  differently. 
I  don't  call  this  religion." 


XX 


That  morning,  while  Lilith  was  at  church  and  Jane 
was  at  chapel,  Henry  Wylford  sat  in  the  Countess  of 
Wayland's  morning-room  by  his  old  friend's  side.  A 
peremptory  summons  had  brought  him,  and  as  he  glanced 
at  her  keen  old  face  he  ceased  to  be  surprised  at  it.  At 
seventy-seven  the  passing  of  four  months  tells.  Patricia, 
Countess  of  Wayland,  was  perceptibly  older,  perceptibly 
frailer.  She  knew  it  herself.  Before  her  was  often  of 
late  a  painful  doubt.  Would  she,  indeed,  live  to  behold 
the  desire  of  her  heart  and  see  Violet,  the  light  of  her  old 
eyes,  married  to  the  one  man  to  whose  keeping  she  would 
unquestionably  trust  her  ?  Wylford  was  constantly  at  the 
house,  always  her  own  good  friend  and  Violet's  watchful 
guardian  as  she  went  her  gentle  way,  jealously  investi- 
gating the  claims  of  those  who  sought  her  friendship, 
almost  unconsciously  crushing  with  a  ruthless  hand  the 
aspirations  of  all  who  desired  more,  though  he  himself, 
as  far  as  anyone  could  see,  desired  nothing.  And  Lady 
Wayland,  disappointed  and  disapproving,  watched  him. 

"  It  isn't  at  all  what  he  ought  to  do,"  she  told  her- 
self. "  I  never  expected  Henry  to  play  dog-in-the-manger 
like  this.  Either  he  wants  her  himself  or  he  doesn't.  If 
he  does  why  can't  he  say  so?    If  he  doesn't " 

Lady  Wayland  checked  her  thoughts.  She  did  not 
care  even  to  imagine  what  he  ought  to  do — if  he  didn't. 

It  was  of  Violet  they  were  talking  this  morning  as 
they  sat  in  Lady  Wayland's  room,  the  bright  cold  sun- 
shine of  March  peeping  in  at  the  windows,  the  scent  from 
a  stand  of  white  hyacinths  filling  all  the  warm  air. 
Wylford  had  been  expressly  sent  for  to  talk  about  Violet, 
as  he  very  well  knew. 
154 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  155 

"  I  have  told  you  before,  haven't  I  ?  " — the  old  lady- 
leant  back  in  her  chair  and  looked  away  from  him — 
"  that  poor  James  had  the  courage  of  his  convictions 
and  married  a  quite  surprisingly  low  person,  who  made 
butter  and  cheese  and  milked  cows,  and  knew  nothing  of 
literature  beyond  Shakespeare  and  the  Bible." 

"  Yes,  dear  lady,  I  know  all  that,"  and  Wylford 
smiled  at  the  touch  of  passion  roused  even  yet  by  the 
recital  of  the  old  wrong.  "  I  have  always  understood 
that  she  made  the  children  an  admirable  mother  and 
James  an  excellent  wife.  And,  as  far  as  literature  is  con- 
cerned, did  she  need  to  know  much  more  than  the  two 
books  you  mention  ?  " 

Lady  Wayland  made  a  funny  little  sound,  half  snort, 
half  laugh,  that  had  satisfaction  as  well  as  irritation 
behind  it.  It  wasn't  the  mother,  then,  who  stood  between 
Wylford  and  the  wife  she  would  have  given  him. 

"  But  I  think  you  don't  know  that  by  the  terms  of 
their  father's  will  both  Cyril  and  Violet  are  bound  to 
spend  at  least  six  weeks  in  every  year  with  their  mother's 
people." 

"  I  didn't  know  their  father  made  a  will." 

"  He  had  nothing  to  bequeath  beyond  wishes — ^but 
he  left  plenty  of  those,"  rejoined  the  old  lady,  drily. 
"  Cyril  takes  no  notice  to  them.  He  holds  them  impos- 
sible to  fulfil  and  so  he  doesn't  try.  But  Violet!  You 
know  what  Violet  is." 

Wylford  bent  his  head.     He  knew  what  Violet  was. 

"  This  is  her  first  visit  since  she  came  to  me,"  Lady 
Wayland  went  on.  "  The  first  summer  the  child  was  ill, 
the  second  we  were  abroad.    But  now " 

"  When  does  she  go?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.    But  it  will  be  soon." 

"  Soon  !    In  the  season  ?  " 

•    "  Violet  cares  nothing  for  the  season.    I  believe  she 

is  glad  to  get  away  from  it  and  all  that  it  entails.    And 

that  isn't  all,  Henry.     There  is  a  cousin  there,  David,  a 

rough  farming  man  who  thinks  he  has  a  mission,  sees 


156  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

himself,  really,  as  one  touched  with  the  Divine  fire, 
neglects  his  fields  for  his  fellow-creatures,  studies  not 
stock  but  souls.  Can  you  imagine  what  sort  of  attraction 
a  cousin  of  that  kind  of  mind  might  possess  for  Violet  ?  " 

"  You  don't  mean " 

"  I  do,"  said  Lady  Wayland,  quietly. 

Wylford  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  his  thin,  clean- 
shaven face  worked  oddly  for  a  moment.  The  screen 
of  black  eagle  feathers  in  Lady  Wayland's  fine  old  hand 
moved  rhythmically  to  and  fro.  Wylford's  disturbance 
of  mind  was  evident. 

"You  are  not  suggesting !    He  wouldn't  dare!'' 

"Why  shouldn't  the  man  dare?" — the  swaying  of 
the  eagle  feathers  quickened.  "  He  is  her  own  cousin. 
James,  Violet's  father,  married  his  mother's  sister.  Violet 
herself  grew  up  at  his  side,  a  simple  farm  lassie." 

"  But  Violet  would  never " 

"  Who  can  count  upon  what  Violet  will  do  ?  She  is 
all  for  simplicity  and  the  hidden  things  of  the  spirit." 

"  And  she  thinks  she  will  discover  the  hidden  things 
of  the  spirit  in  a  Cumberland  farmhouse?" 

"  She  will  find  them  there  more  surely  than  in  London, 
and  she  knows  it." 

After  which  for  some  little  time  the  two  sat  silent. 
Not  by  word  would  Lady  Wayland  jeopardise  the  quick- 
ening of  the  seed  that  she  had  sown.  At  last  Wylford 
sat  up. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  want  you  to  save  her " — the  touch  of  passion 
sounded  again  in  the  tired  old  voice.  "  Save  her  from 
a  fundamental  and  irrevocable  error,  save  her  from  the 
regret  her  father  knew  before  he  died.  I  want  you  to 
go  to  Cumberland  with  her  and  see  for  yourself.  See 
for  yourself,  and  save  her — the  only  way  you  can." 

"  If  I  dare,"  said  Wylford,  hoarsely,  "  if  I  only  dare !  " 

"  Oh,"  with  acute  irritation,  "  why  will  you  lay  such 
stress  upon — what  is,  after  all,  such  a  very  secondary 
matter?" 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  157 

"Secondary ! " 

The  keen  old  worldling  at  Wylford's  side  answered 
nothing.  Her  ear  had  caught  the  rustling  of  garments, 
and  the  next  moment  the  door  opened  and  a  tall  girl, 
with  a  fair  face  rising  like  a  flower  from  its  setting  of 
sables,  came  into  the  room. 

"  I've  come  to  luncheon,  Aunt  Patricia,"  she  an- 
nounced, dropping  on  her  knees  to  kiss  her.  "  How  d'you 
do,  Mr.  Wylford  ?  "  The  careless  greeting  was  almost 
insultingly  indifferent.  "  You  don't  mind,  do  you,  sweet- 
est?" this  to  Lady  Wayland.  "  It's  ages  since  I've  seen 
you,  and  it  will  be  aeons  before  I  see  you  again.  Violet 
and  Cyril  are  just  behind.  I  saw  Violet  in  church,  and 
we  picked  Cyril  up  as  we  came  home." 

"  Get  up,  Mildred,"  said  Lady  Wayland,  sharply. 
"  Baby  ways  don't  suit  a  girl  of  your  inches." 

"  Oh,  one  can't  be  always  thinking  of  one's  inches," 
returned  the  girl  with  unabated  good  humour.  "  What's 
the  matter,  Mr.  Wylford?    You  look  very  glum." 

"  Have  you  been  to  church  ?  "  asked  Wylford,  rather 
pointedly. 

"And  why  shouldn't  I?" 

Wylford  shrugged  his  shoulders  ever  so  slightly  and 
turned  away.  If  Lady  Mildred  saw  no  reason  why  she 
should  not  go  to  church  he  was  the  last  person  likely 
to  point  it  out  to  her. 

"  I  don't  know  any  place  more  productive  of  new 
ideas,  brilliant  ideas,  than  church,"  Mildred  went  on, 
and  her  light,  metallic,  cheerful  voice  had  a  hint  of 
defiance  in  it.  "  If  I  want  to  think  out  a  difficult  gown 
or  a  ravishing  hat  I  go  to  church.  Nowhere  can  one 
get  such  absolute  leisure,  such  complete  repose,  as  one 
gets  during  the  sermon,  especially  during  Norman's 
sermons.  I  suppose  they  must  be  interesting  or  the 
people  wouldn't  be  so  quiet,  there  wasn't  so  much  as  a 
cough  this  morning — and  it  is  March.  But  /  never  listen. 
He  is  beyond  me  altogether.  And  in  church  there  are 
such   odd  people — and   such   pretty   faces.     I    sat  this 


158  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

morning  beside  the  prettiest  girl  I  have  ever  seen.  If  she 
had  been  dressed  instead  of  clothed  she  would  have  been 
lovely.  Oh,  here's  Violet.  Violet,  who  was  the  girl 
who  sat  beside  me  this  morning?  I  am  just  telling  Aunt 
Patricia  what  a  sweet  little  face  she  had.  Do  you  know 
her?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I  didn't  notice."  Violet  shook  hands 
easily  enough  with  Wylford  but  she  had  paled  a  little 
at  the  sight  of  him.  "If  she  was  very  pretty  it  must 
have  been  Lilith  Somers.  She  joined  Norman's  Com- 
municants' class  just  before  Christmas;  she  is  to  be  con- 
firmed at  Easter.  She  is  a  darling,"  with  soft  fervour. 
"  Didn't  you  think  she  was  a  darling,  Mildred  ?  " 

Mildred  made  a  funny  little  mouth. 

"  Hopelessly  middle  class,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  likely  to  object  to  that,"  returned  Violet, 
quickly.    "  I'm  middle  class  myself." 

"  What  did  you  say  her  name  was  ?  "  asked  Cyril, 
moved  by  a  vague  memory. 

No  one  answered  him,  and  he  did  not  repeat  his 
question.  His  "  Lilith  "  was  hardly  likely  to  be  a  member 
of  any  Communicants'  class.  And  yet  a  girl  as  pretty 
as  Mildred  described !  He  was  conscious  of  a  sudden 
hope  that  this  might  not  prove  another  of  the  impossible 
friendships  in  which  Violet  occasionally  indulged. 

"  Norman  is  coming  to  luncheon,  Grannie,"  she  said, 
presently.  "  I  think  this  must  be  Norman  coming 
upstairs." 

"  Then  there  are  two  of  him,"  said  Grannie,  with  a 
smile,  for  she  was  proud  of  the  acuteness  of  her  hearing. 

Dorrington  came  in  with  her  words,  and  at  sight  of 
something  or  someone  in  the  room  checked  himself  so 
sharply  that  a  man  behind  came  up  almost  against  him. 
Grannie  leant  forward  quickly,  her  glance  going  beyond 
Dorrington  to  the  man  behind. 

"  Mr.  Chisholm,"  she  said,  and  the  note  of  welcome 
in  her  voice  was  unmistakable. 

His  steel-grey  eyes  brightened  at  it  over  Norman 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  159 

Dorrington's  shoulder.  He  waited  with  unconcealed  im- 
patience through  Dorrington's  rather  prolonged  greeting, 
and  then  he  grasped  his  hostess's  hand  in  a  capacious 
fighting  fist. 

"  I've  come  again,"  he  announced  in  a  resonant  voice 
with  a  touch  of  challenge  behind  it.  "  You  told  me  too, 
and  I  did." 

"  When  you  know  me  a  little  better,"  said  Lady  Way- 
land,  "  you'll  know  that  I  never  tell  anyone  to  come  and 
see  me  unless  I  really  want  them.  Violet,  come  and  shake 
hands  with  Mr.  Chisholm.  Mr.  Chisholm,  Lady  Mildred 
Manners.  You  know  Mr.  Wylford,  then,"  for  the  two 
men  were  shaking  hands  cordially. 

"  Yes,  we  have  met  before."  His  quick  eyes  went  up 
and  down  the  room  as  though  its  details  were  a  novelty. 
"  I  know  Dorrington,  too.  We  are  very  friendly  enemies, 
aren't  we,  Dorrington  ?  "  at  which  Dorrington  smiled,  a 
little  uncertainly. 

"  There  is  the  luncheon  bell,"  said  Lady  Wayland. 
"  Take  me  in,  Henry." 

She  glanced  about  her  luncheon  table  with  a  glint  of 
half-amused  apprehension  in  her  eyes.  Elements  were 
here  difficult  to  amalgamate,  so  difficult  that  she  had  not 
even  attempted  their  arrangement  since  every  possible 
grouping  seemed  more  dangerous  than  the  last.  Blind 
Chance  assisted  her,  however,  placing  Mildred  between 
Dorrington  and  the  newcomer,  and  Violet  between 
Wylford  and  her  brother.  At  first  all  went  well.  Topics 
safe  and  general  were  deftly  introduced  by  the  hostess 
and  ably  taken  up  by  her  right  hand  man,  but  at  last 
the  inevitable  happened,  and  Norman  Dorrington,  out  of 
the  fulness  of  his  heart,  began  to  talk  about  his  work. 
Wylford  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  his  thin  face  settled 
into  an  utter  stillness.  Chisholm  leant  forward,  his 
square  chin  slightly  thrust  out,  his  square  nostrils  spread 
and  his  square  brows  lowered. 

"  And  what,"  he  said,  after  some  few  minutes'  pro- 
found attention,  "  what  should  you  say  is  the  upshot  of 


160  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

it  all?  What,  at  the  long  last,  is  the  final  result  of 
your — work  ?  " 

Lady  Wayland,  metaphorically  speaking,  pricked  up 
her  ears !  The  phrase  "  at  the  long  last  "  was  not  usual 
to  her  table.  But  it  went  with  the  speaker's  steady  eyes, 
thickly  thatched  head  and  short,  stocky  figure.  Norman 
Dorrington  looked  at  him  with  sudden  interest. 

"  There  are — many  results,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  May 
I  suggest  that  you  should  come  and  investigate  for  your- 
self? You  would  see  much  that  would  interest  you,  and  " 
— ^with  a  quick  glance  at  Violet — "  that  I  cannot  go  into 
here.  You  would  see  lads  snatched  from  the  street  and 
taught  something  of  the  meaning  of  truth,  honour,  and 
purity.  Girls  who,  but  for  us,  would  drift  into  nameless 
depths  coming  regularly  to  all  their  duties " 

"Duties?" 

"  I  mean  the  Sacraments,"  explained  Dorrington,  with 
a  touch  of  dignity,  "  Baptism,  Confirmation,  Penance, 
and  the  Eucharist." 

Chisholm  glanced  across  the  table  curiously.  There 
was  a  touch  of  the  mediaeval  in  Dorrington's  reply  that 
for  the  moment  had  taken  his  breath  away. 

"We'll  grant  all  that,"  he  said,  presently;  "but 
we  haven't  got  really  to  the  core  of  my  question  even  yet. 
Of  what  practical  value  is  all  that?  Boys  and  girls,  you 
say.  What  about  the  men  and  women  ?  Does  it  persist  ? 
Is  it  worth  anything?  You  are  a  man,  pretty  evidently, 
who  wakes  through  long  nights  and  lives  laborious  days. 
Does  your — work — really  do  anything  to  ameliorate  the 
conditions  under  which  these  people  live?  Does  it  alter 
in  any  way  the  hell  upon  earth — or  what  would  be  hell 
upon  earth  to  us ! — that  is  all  they  know  of  life  ?  " 

"Oh,  what  does  it  matter?"  asked  Lady  Mildred 
with  a  gay  little  laugh.  Norman  was  really  to  blame  for 
introducing  subjects  that  he  knew  were  controversial, 
and  Chisholm  was  even  more  to  blame  for  taking  them 
up.  A  bright  little  spot  of  colour  was  showing  on  Lady 
Wayland's  cheek  and  even  Violet  was  beginning  to  feel 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  161 

uncomfortable.  "What  does  it  matter?  Nobody's  life 
is  quite  what  they  would  choose  it  to  be — and  everything, 
according  to  Norman,  will  be  set  right  in  heaven," 

"  Heaven,"  said  Wylford's  deep  voice,  and  the  word 
seemed  to  be  wrung  out  of  him  in  spite  of  himself,  "  the 
most  mischievously  beautiful  fable  that  ever  danced,  a 
veritable  will-o'-th'-wisp,  across  a  rotten  world.  The 
sooner  it  is  swept  into  the  limbo  of  forgotten  things  the 
better  for  poor  humanity." 

"  And  now,"  said  Lady  Wayland,  raising  a  heavily 
beringed  hand  that  looked  as  though  it  had  been  carved 
out  of  old  ivory,  "  let  us  go  back  to  the  drawing-room. 
I  am  quite  ready,"  her  eyes,  bright  with  kindly  reproof, 
going  round  her  little  party,  "  to  discuss  this  sort  of  thing 
with  each  and  every  one  of  you — separately.  But  I 
thought  it  was  understood  that  I  don't  care  about  it  at 
my  table." 

"  They  call  this  an  irreligious  age,"  said  Mr. 
Chisholm,  rolling  his  table-napkin  up  in  a  ball  and  flinging 
it  into  his  chair,  "  and  here  is  a  triumphant  refutation  of 
the  statement.  Religion  is  the  one  thing  we  all  yearn 
and  we  are  all  forbidden  to  discuss — because  we  all 
quarrel  about  it  ?  Why  ?  Not  because  we  care  so  little — 
but  because  we  care  so  much." 

"  Do  you  like  him  ?  "  asked  Lady  Mildred  curiously, 
when  the  others  had  departed  each  their  several  ways  and 
she  and  Lady  Wayland  were  alone. 

"Yes,  don't  you?" 

Lady  Mildred  raised  one  shoulder  and  pulled  a  funny 
little  face. 

"  I'm  not  sure,"  she  said,  slowly.  "  He  is — queer. 
So  unpolished,  so  blunt,  so  square.  Violet  doesn't  like 
him  at  all.    I  hope  he  isn't  going  to  like  her — too  much." 

"  Make  your  mind  easy  on  that  score,"  answered  Lady 
Wayland  calmly.  "If  there  had  been  the  faintest  danger 
of  that  sort  of  thing  I  should  have  seen  it  at  once." 

Mildred  turned  abruptly  away  and  tied  a  succession 
of  striking  and  original  knots  in  her  watch  chain. 


162  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  You  don't  see  everything,  Auntie  Pat." 

"  I  do  where  Violet  is  concerned." 

"  And  other  people  don't  matter,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Is  there — something  I  ought  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you  ought  to  know.  There 
is  something  I  am  half-inclined  to  tell  you !  Isn't  Love 
a  nuisance,  Auntie  Pat?  What  a  simple  thing  life  would 
be  if  there  were  no  Cupid  to  make  it  complicated.  What 
a  pity  it  is  that  Venus,  while  she  was — arranging  him, 
didn't  provide  for  just  a  touch  of  reason  in  his  com- 
position." 

"  Are  you  talking  about  Mr.  Wylford  ?  "  sitting  up 
anxiously. 

"  No,  I  am  not  talking  about  Mr.  Wylford,  I  am  talk- 
ing about  Mr.  Norman  Dorrington.  I  always  thought 
Henry  was  a  fool  to  love — where  he  does,  but  Norman 
can  give  him  odds  and  beat  him  easily." 

Lady  Way  land  forbore  reproof,  much  as  she  objected 
to  the  language  of  the  turf  in  the  mouth  of  her  grand- 
niece. 

"  What !  "  she  asked,  with  painful  interest,  "  has  he 
fallen  in  love  with  Violet,  too  ?  " 

"  Violet,"  echoed  Mildred,  "  does  no  one  exist  but 
Violet !    No,  Auntie  Pat,  he  has  fallen  in  love  with  me !  " 

"  You !  "  Lady  Way  land  sat  slowly  back  in  her  chair. 
"  You!"  she  said,  again. 

"  Yes,  me  " — the  girl's  laugh  had  bitterness  behind  it. 
"  I  told  him,  I  have  told  him  often,  that  if  he  had 
searched  through  the  world  for  the  woman  most  entirely 
unsuitable  to  be  his  wife  he  could  not  more  surely  have 
found  her.  What  do  men  think,  Auntie  Pat,  when  first 
they  desire  a  woman  for  a  wife  ?  What  influences  them  ? 
What  guides  them?  What  makes  them  choose  just  the 
women  they  do  choose  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  they  don't  think.  It  just  happens,  and 
as  a  rule  it's  a  calamity — like  this.  I  suppose  he  hasn't 
any  chance  ?  " 

Mildred  hesitated,  and  her  face  softened  curiously. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  163 

"  He's  a  nice  boy,"  she  said,  slowly;  "  but  I  couldn't - 
be  a  parson's  wife,  not  any  way." 

"  Well,"  returned  Lady  Wayland,  crisply,  "  perhaps 
it's  a  good  thing — for  Norman.  I — I  hope  you  are  going 
to  behave  decently  about  it,  Mildred.  Keep  out  of  his 
way,  I  mean,  and  give  him  a  chance  to  recover.  He  will, 
you  know,  in  time,  if  you  will  let  him." 

An  odd  little  glint  shone  in  Mildred's  eyes,  but  she 
made  no  promise. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  him,  very,"  Lady  Wayland  went  on. 
"  I  don't  know  why  things  should  happen  so.  I  am  not 
profane  enough  to  think  I  could  have  constructed  a  better 
world — but  I  would  certainly  have  made  a  different  one." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  not  the  construction  that  is  wrong — 
but  only  our  frantic  efforts  to  improve  upon  it,"  sug- 
gested Mildred,  slowly. 

Lady  Wayland  looked  sharply  at  her. 

"  I  don't  quite  know  what  you  mean,  and  one  daren't 
ask,"  she  said.  "  But  if  you  have  any  idea  of  testing,  by 
subtle  experiment,  how  much  that  boy  can  bear " 

"  He's  a  man,"  said  Mildred,  softly. 

"  In  comparison  with  you  he's  a  baby,"  said  Lady 
Wayland,  sharply. 


XXI 


It  was  Easter  Eve.  The  long  strain  of  Lent  was  over, 
and  a  sense  of  blessed  peace  and  rest  brooded  like  a  dove 
over  the  little  group  of  people  gathered  in  St.  Alphege 
to  deck  that  rather  gloomy  edifice  for  the  triumphant 
festival  of  the  morrow.  The  beams  of  a  tender  April 
afternoon  lit  up  the  nearly  finished  work.  Violet,  on 
her  knees,  was  putting  the  last  touch  to  a  bank  of  white 
violets,  her  own  gift,  that  ran  from  end  to  end  of  the 
carved  rood-screen,  filling  the  building  with  fragrance 
even  as  they  filled  one  gentle  girl's  heart  with  joy.  A 
knot  of  devout  women  were  gathered  about  the  altar, 
already  heavy  with  exotic  blooms.  Embroidered  banners 
filled  every  comer  with  a  glow  of  rich  colour.  Above  the 
delicate  tracery  of  the  rood-screen,  hidden  now  beneath 
a  wealth  of  flowers,  a  cross  gleamed  out,  shedding  its 
message  of  deliverance  and  hope  down  upon  miserable 
mankind. 

A  little  withdrawn  from  the  throng  of  whispering 
women,  busily  dowering  font  and  lantern  and  pulpit 
with  unfamiliar  and  symbolical  beauty,  a  girl  stood  at 
the  foot  of  a  tall  lancet  window  filling  its  deep  embrasure 
with  moss.  Every  now  and  then  she  laid  a  light  hand 
upon  its  cool  rich  green,  as  though  in  its  very  touch  was 
solace  and  healing.  Once,  only  once,  poor  little  Lon- 
doner, had  she  been  privileged  to  see  a  Hampshire  hazel 
copse,  its  tree-stools  rising  from  cushions  of  just  such 
emerald  moss,  its  last  few  catkins  shaking  their  golden 
dust  out  upon  the  blue  air,  its  first  "  faint  green  mists  of 
April's  weaving "  shimmering  among  the  lacy  inter- 
twining boughs,  and  a  very  riot  and  glory  of  golden 
primroses,  in  scattered  ones  and  twos,  in  clumps  of  forty 
and  fifty,  in  wide-flung  patches  of  hundreds  upon  hun- 

164 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  165 

dreds,  starring  into  smiling  beauty  all  the  springing  grass. 
She  had  a  few  primroses  in  her  hand  now,  faint,  pale 
copies  of  those  that  lived  again  in  blissful  memory  as  her 
thoughts  flew  backwards.  She  separated  a  few  of  their 
crushed  and  wilted  heads,  and  shook  them  and  softly 
blew  their  petals  open,  and  sighed  as  she  compared  them 
with  their  scented  sisters,  sitting  each  erect  and  beautiful 
upon  its  downy  stalk  where  there  were  none  but  the 
thrushes  and  blackbirds  to  see. 

"  Don't  use  those,  Lilith.  I  have  something  you  will 
find  better  here." 

The  girl  turned  quickly.  It  was  Norman  Dorrington, 
carrying  a  large  square  hamper  in  his  hands.  He  set  it 
down  on  one  of  the  line  of  rush-bottomed  chairs  and 
cut  the  string  that  secured  its  lid  of  woven  willows. 
And  inside  there  were  primroses,  big  and  sweet,  pale 
stars  of  palest  gold,  each  with  either  a  tiny  translucent 
jewel  or  a  touch  of  richer  gold  as  its  heart.  And  above 
them,  a  foam  of  pearly  blossom  and  golden  leaves,  broken 
branches  from  the  wild  cherry. 

"  Oh,"  said  Lilith,  hanging  over  it  in  rapture.  ''  Oh!  " 
And  then,  shyly — "  Who  sent  them,  Father  ?  " 

He  did  not  answer  at  once.  The  reverend  title  that 
sat  so  oddly  on  his  young  shoulders  still  sounded  a  little 
arresting  in  his  young  ears  also. 

"  Lady  Mildred  Manners,"  he  said.  "  She  has  gar- 
dens, you  know.  Though  these,  of  course,  are  wild." 
He  hesitated  a  moment,  for  his  thoughts,  too,  had  flown 
backwards  to  an  April  day  not  so  long  ago,  an  April  day 
in  an  English  wood,  where  the  primroses  lay  golden  at 
the  oak  trees'  feet  and  the  shy  blue  eyes  of  the  scentless 
violet  looked  up  from  among  the  dead  leaves  of  past 
summers.  He  wrenched  his  memories  back.  Such 
dreams  were  not  for  him.  "  How  are  things  at  home, 
Lilith?" 

"A  little— difficult."  She  had  lifted  a  branch  of 
cherry  blossom  from  its  primrose  bed,  and  the  face  raised 
to  his  above  its  incomparable  sprays  was  in  its  own  way 


166  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

every  bit  as  dainty  and  as  delicate,  "  I  wonder !  I 
wanted  to  ask " 

"What,  my  child?" 

"  Can't  I  be  the  same  at  home  as  I  was  before  ?  Must 
I  always — cross  myself  and — and " 

"  That  is  a  matter  for  your  own  decision.  But  you 
cannot  drop  any  one  of  your  observances,  not  even  the 
smallest,  without  losing  grace." 

The  lines  of  the  girl's  plaintive  mouth  altered. 

*'  If  you  wish  it,"  she  said. 

"  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  me.  It  is  a  matter  for 
your  own  conscience.  But  when  you  set  out  to  follow 
the  Master,  Lilith,  you  did  not  expect  to  find  an  easy 
road." 

The  girl  raised  her  eyes  in  vague  wonder.  To  look 
for  the  Master's  footsteps  had  not  occurred  to  her.  The 
only  leading  to  which  as  yet  she  had  opened  her  mind 
was  the  leading  of  the  man  who  stood  looking  down  at 
her  with  grave,  cool,  kindly  eyes. 

"  And  about  your  confession,"  he  said,  presently. 

"  That  was  another  thing.  Need  I — must  I — mention 
it  at  home  ?  " 

"  You  must  be  perfectly  honest,  open  and  sincere. 
You  still  wish  it?" 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  Then  you  must  tell  your  mother  what  you  wish  to 
do,  and  ask  her  permission  to  do  it." 

"  She  will  never  give  it." 

"  You  think  not?    Why  will  she  object?  " 

"  I  don't  think  she  knows.  It  is  Popish  and  that  is 
quite  enough.  I  told  her  only  the  other  day  that  if  it 
comes  to  that  the  whole  Christian  religion  is  Popish." 

"  You  were  not  rude  to  her,  I  hope." 

"  I'm— afraid  I  was." 

Dorrington  shook  his  head  a  little,  but  Lilith  did  not 
see  it.  Her  eyes  were  lowered  before  him  in  a  passion 
of  repentance.    To  have  failed  in  duty  to  her  mother  was. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  167 

of  course,  regrettable,  but  to  have  brought  upon  herself 
Norman  Dorrington's  rebuke  was  unendurable. 

"  It  wasn't— I  didn't " 

"  Don't  excuse  yourself,"  he  said,  with  gentle  stern- 
ness. "  You  were  in  fault  and  you  have  acknowledged 
it.  That  is  enough.  And  now  about  your  confession, 
Lilith.  Your  confirmation  is  to  take  place  next  month 
and  your  first  communion  will  follow  it.  Confession 
should  come  before  either." 

"  But  if  mother  absolutely  forbids  ?  " 

Dorrington  was  silent,  though  it  was  not  the  first 
time  this  difficulty  had  faced  him.  Presently  he  spoke, 
and  very  deliberately. 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  that  comes  before  the  claim 
of  a  parent,  and  that  is  the  claim  of  conscience,  Lilith. 
In  this  case  I  think  you  would  be  justified  in  setting  your 
mother's  wishes  on  one  side.  But  get  her  permission  if 
you  can." 

"  I  will — ask  her.  It  will  make  things  a  little  hard 
for  me  at  home,  but,  of  course,  as  you  say,  I  didn't  expect 
to  find  it  easy." 

"  If  you  would  like  further  advice !  If  you  wish 
to  consult  the  vicar!  He  is  a  wiser  man  than  I,  more 
experienced,  better  in  every  way ! " 

"  Oh  no,"  in  breathless  disclaimer ;  "  I  don't  want  to 
ask  anyone — but  you." 

He  moved  away  a  little  abruptly.  It  was  not  the 
first  time  that,  in  Lilith's  company,  he  had  been  conscious 
of  a  subtle  disquiet,  of  a  vague  fear.  He  was  a  priest 
but  he  was  also  a  man,  young,  enthusiastic  and,  as  he 
could  not  help  seeing,  attractive.  Blushes  rose  at  his 
coming,  eyes  brightened  at  his  praise.  He  was  no  cox- 
comb ;  but  he  was  no  fool.  These  things  were — ^and  must 
be  reckoned  with.  Would  Lilith  have  given  to  the  jolly, 
business-like  vicar  the  lovely  look  of  innocent  worship 
she  had  just  given  him?  Was  her  sweet  docility,  her 
ardent  enthusiasm  for  her  new  teaching  quite  as — well, 
as  impersonal  as  it  should  have  been?    If  Holroyd,  his 


168  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

fellow  curate,  had  happened  to  be  her  spiritual  director ! 
Holroyd,  with  his  brusque  manner,  his  rugged,  homely 
face,  his  halting  gait !  Holroyd,  the  white  fire  of  whose 
zeal  burned  so  much  fiercer  than  his  own  and  who  had 
failed  so  signally  with  the  very  g^rls  Dorrington  found  as 
wax  in  his  hands!  Of  course,  among  Romanists  these 
things,  that  Dorrington  had  vaguely  in  his  mind,  were 
recognised,  even  encouraged,  for  all  might  be  pressed 
into  the  service  of  the  church.  But  the  clear  issues  of 
right  and  wrong,  Dorrington  told  himself,  had  not  been 
confused  for  him  by  Jesuit  sophistries.  Was  it  right,  for 
the  sake  of  the  undoubted  and  powerful  influence  it  gave 
him  over  her  in  matters  both  of  belief  and  conduct,  to 
allow  this  girl  to  lay  at  his  feet  treasures  that  could 
only  be  refused,  beautiful  possibilities  that  another  man, 
perhaps 

"  I'll  try  the  vicar  once  again,"  he  told  himself  with 
a  long  breath,  half  perplexity,  half  relief.  Perhaps,  if 
he  mentioned  Lilith  again,  the  vicar  would  understand. 

And  Lilith  was  left  alone  with  her  promises.  Her 
fingers  worked  busily  whilst  her  soul  floated  Heavenward 
on  a  golden  cloud  of  vague  emotion.  The  quests  of 
men  are  many,  and  range  from  Sir  Galahad's  for  the 
Holy  Grail  to  him  with  the  muck-rake  grubbing  among 
garbage.  But  one  is  common  to  all,  the  quest  for  joy. 
In  widely  dififerent  fields  they  seek  it,  on  the  chill  heights 
of  intellectual  activity,  among  the  lurid  fires  of  sensu- 
ality and  sin,  on  the  plains  of  comfortable  commonplace 
lighted  by  worldly  ambition  and  warmed  by  healthy 
human  loves,  on  the  slopes,  steep  and  stony,  that  lead 
up  to  God.  But  what  they  seek  for  is  the  same.  Were 
Lilith's  feet  planted  on  the  road  thereto? 

At  this  moment  she  did  not  doubt  it.  Many  things 
made  for  happiness,  the  hushed  holiness  of  her  surround- 
ings ;  the  knowledge  that  she  was  one  of  a  community, 
cordial  and  sympathetic,  the  very  inner  circles  of  which 
had  welcomed  and  absorbed  her ;  the  work  she  was  doing, 
dainty  and  decorative;  the  friends  she  was  making,  re- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  169 

fined  and  intellectual,  friends,  Lilith  told  herself,  with 
whom  she  was  really  at  one.  But  this  was  not  all  or  even 
most.  For  above  and  beyond  all  was  an  influence,  subtle 
and  as  yet  unsuspected,  before  which  Lilith's  soul,  or 
what  she  took  to  be  her  soul,  was  as  clay  in  the  hands  of 
the  potter.  No  foolish  dreams  as  yet  darkened  her  vision, 
for  no  definite  desires  had  as  yet  been  formulated  in  her 
mind.  So  far  she  was  conscious  of  nothing  but  the  need 
to  worship  and  the  nearness  of  that  which  was  beyond 
question  worthy  of  the  best  that  she  could  give. 

"  O  Lilith,  how  pretty !  " 

Lilith  turned  quickly  from  her  chaplet  of  cherry- 
blossom  lying  like  a  wreath  of  snow  upon  the  green 
moss.    It  was  Violet. 

"  Is  it  ?  "  she  said,  shyly.  "  I  hope  it  won't  fade.  I 
have  put  all  the  stalks  into  water.  See !  "  showing  the 
tops  of  deftly  concealed  green  tins. 

"  It's  lovely."  Violet  always  gave  admiration  in 
generous  measure.  "  Cherry-blossom  is  so  very  uncer- 
tain, mine  is  all  drooping  already,  but  yours  looks  lovely. 
Lilith,  what  are  you  going  to  do  this  afternoon?  When 
we  have  finished  here,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  home,  I  suppose."  Home,  to  painful 
explanations  and  passionate  opposition,  to  profound  igno- 
rance and  pathetic  fears,  to  the  resentment  of  the  man 
whose  heart's  holiest  had  been  flouted  for  reasons  that  he 
would  never  understand  and  the  dumb  questioning  of  a 
mother  whose  best  beloved  had  developed  into  something 
incomprehensible  and  aloof.  Lilith's  recoil  from  the 
prospect  sounded  faintly  in  her  voice.  Violet  spoke  with 
shy  eagerness. 

"  Don't,  Lilith.  Come  home  with  me  instead.  I 
have  a  pretty  little  room  where  we  can  have  tea  all  by 
ourselves — and  talk.  Norman — Mr.  Dorrington,  I  mean ; 
he  is  my  cousin,  you  know — would  like  us  to  know  one 
another  a  little  better.  He  said  so  only  the  other  day, — 
that  I  could  help  you — and  you  could  help  me.  Will  you, 
Lilith?" 


170  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Lilith  thrilled.  Inviting  indeed  was  the  prospect 
Violet's  gentle  hand  had  opened  to  her.  To  go  to  a  house 
like  Lady  Nora's,  to  associate  as  a  friend  and  an  equal 
with  women  who  dressed,  spoke,  moved  like  Lady  Nora ! 
Women  who  could  understand  and  interpret,  women  who 
to  her  were  intellectually  and  spiritually  akin. 

"  Oh,  how  lovely,"  she  said,  and  her  fair  little  face 
flashed  into  rapture. 

The  friendship  so  sweetly  offered  and  so  frankly 
accepted  grew  like  Jonah's  gourd.  No  gaucherie  on 
Lilith's  part  destroyed  Violet's  pleasure  in  her  society. 
She  accepted  quite  naturally  and  as  a  matter  of  course  the 
little  elegances  that,  though  unfamiliar,  belonged  of 
divine  right  to  the  life  of  Lady  Nora  and  her  kind.  In 
her  blue  serge  skirt  and  simple  blue  blouse  powdered 
all  over  with  tiny  white  dots,  she  fitted  quite  naturally 
into  the  picture  as  she  sat  at  tea  in  Violet's  own  little 
sanctum,  and  the  two  were  still  young  enough  not  to  have 
forgotten  the  camaraderie  of  the  schoolroom.  At  first, 
with  the  fine  reticence  of  youth,  they  touched  upon  surface 
interests  only,  but  before  long,  born  of  unexpected 
affinity,  came  delicate  and  tentative  advances  towards  a 
closer  understanding. 

"  One  has  many  acquaintances,  Lilith,  and  so  few 
friends,"  Violet  remarked,  with  all  the  enjoyment  of 
youth  in  a  profound  platitude.  "  It  is  difficult  enough  to 
find  people  to  whom  one  feels  that  one  is  really  drawn, 
and  even  when  one  does — something  so  often  stands 
between,  spoils  things." 

"  Even  with  you  ?  "  returned  Lilith,  wondering.  "  I 
should  have  thought  you  had  so  many." 

Violet  shook  her  head. 

"  And  those  one  cares  for  most,"  she  said,  sadly, 
"  see  things  differently,  so  very  differently.  To  take,  for 
instance,  the  thing  in  life  that  matters  most,  religious 
belief.  Would  you  think  one  can,  would  you  think  one 
ought  to  make  friends,  real  friends,  with  those  who 
differ  from  one  ?  " 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  171 

Lilith  hesitated.  It  was  difficult,  as  she  knew  of  her 
own  experience,  but  it  had  not  as  yet  struck  her  that 
perhaps  it  might  be  wrong. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered.  "  I  should  have  to 
ask  Father  Dorrington." 

Violet  drew  quickly  back.  This  solution  was  not 
altogether  to  her  taste. 

"  But — he  is  only  a  man,"  she  said ;  "  he  cannot  know 
everything." 

"  Oh,"  objected  Lilith,  adding  quickly,  "  he  is  a 
priest." 

"Yes — and  so  are  Mr.  McNeil  and  Mr.  Holroyd. 
Would  you  take  as  conclusive  anything  and  everything 
they  might  say  to  you?  Surely  one  may  use  one's  own 
judgment  and  reason — about  sojne  things." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Lilith  again,  "  I  should  have  to 
ask  Father  Dorrington." 

The  slow  but  insistent  tapping  of  a  stick  against  the 
door  panel  roused  them.    Violet  sprang  up. 

"  Oh,  Grannie,  dear,"  she  said. 

Lilith  rose  as  the  old  lady  entered  the  room,  one 
hand  on  Violet's  arm,  the  other  leant  hard  upon  her 
silver-headed  stick.  She  blushed  a  little,  but  she  showed 
no  embarrassment.  This  was  simply  a  very  much  older 
edition  of  Lady  Nora,  and  Lilith  was  familiar  and  quite 
at  home  with  the  type.  Lady  Wayland's  glance  rested 
on  the  flushed  little  face  with  approval.  She  nodded  and 
smiled  cordially,  too  breathless  at  first  for  any  more 
formal  greeting. 

"  I  don't  often  find  my  way  up  your  cockloft,  child," 
she  said  at  last,  "  but  I  thought  I  would  come  up  myself 
and  tell  you  that  Henry  is  coming  to  dinner." 

"  Oh"  said  Violet,  adding  quickly,  "  May  I  keep 
Lilith?" 

She  could  hardly  have  explained  her  own  impulse  in 
asking,  oddly  compounded  as  it  was  of  a  desire  to  show 
to  her  new  friend  the  man  of  whom  her  mind  was  always 


172  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

full,  and  the  dread  of  an  evening  spent  practically  alone 
with  him. 

"  But,"  objected  Lilith,  breathlessly,  "  I  haven't  a 
dress." 

"  That  doesn't  matter.  I  have  heaps.  You  would 
like  to  stay,  Lilith  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she  would,"  said  Lady  Wayland,  smiling 
at  Lilith's  radiant  face.  "  Well,  childie,  I  leave  it  to  you 
— and  dinner  is  half  an  hour  earlier." 

Wonderful  were  the  details  of  that  wonderful  even- 
ing. But  the  shock  of  one  moment  swept  them  forever 
from  Lilith's  mind,  the  moment  when,  the  gayest  of  gay 
toilets  over,  she — in  Violet's  white  dress  and  Violet's 
shoes,  with  Violet's  combs  in  the  hair  which  had  been 
elaborately  dressed  by  Violet's  maid,  walked  into  the 
drawing-room  at  Violet's  side — and  recognized  Cyril. 
One  saving  grace  redeemed  her  recollection.  No  shadow 
of  guilt  as  far  as  she  was  concerned  poisoned  them, 
such  guilt  as  there  was  lay  dark  and  sombre  in  Cyril's 
amazed  eyes.  Lilith  owed  it  to  her  own  spotlessness 
that  she  was  enabled  to  accept  Voilet's  introduction  with 
a  smile  of  innocent  surprise. 

"  We  have  seen  one  another  before,"  she  said,  frankly. 
"  Do  you  remember  ?  " 

"  Ah,  I  remember,"  Cyril  was  not  without  embarrass- 
ment, "  the  day  you  could  not  find  your  way  home." 

"But  I  could!"  objected  Lilith  with  wide  eyes,  and 
Cyril  adroitly  switched  the  conversation  into  other 
channels. 

There  was  no  opportunity  for  conversation  properly 
so-called,  either  at  or  after  dinner,  the  kind  of  conversa- 
tion, that  is,  during  which  hidden  and  well-nigh  stifled 
personalities  succeed  in  struggling  a  little  way  out  of 
their  shrouds  and  obtaining  a  passing  glimpse  of  one 
another.  Both  Wylford  and  Cyril,  each  in  their  several 
ways,  raged  at  the  circumstance  one  moment  and  wel- 
comed it  the  next.  The  friendship  between  the  two  girls 
developed   as   only   a  girl   friendship   can.      They   dis- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  173 

covered  early  that  they  had  studied  the  same  music  and 
sang  the  same  songs,  and  the  two  hovered  about  the 
piano  absorbed  in  one  another.  Wylford  r^arded  the 
pair  of  charming  children  one  moment  with  a  pleasure 
purely  artistic,  the  next  with  a  throb  of  jealousy  he  felt 
was  absurd,  yet  which  he  could  not  subdue.  But  in 
Cyril's  regard  there  was  never  at  any  moment  anything 
of  pleasure.  His  eyes  rested  on  Ulith  with  a  glow  in 
them  of  almost  hungry  admiration.  Something  in  the 
quality  of  his  loc4c  first  embarrassed  and  then  frightened 
her.  But  though  his  own  interest  in  her  was  immistak- 
able,  it  was  evident  that  his  sister's  interest  in  her  moved 
him  to  strong  disapproval.  His  manner  revealed  an 
antagonism  at  first  latent,  at  last  actively  inimicaL  When 
Lilith,  once  ag^in  in  Aer  blue  serge  skirt  and  spotted 
blouse,  had  been  consigned  to  the  roomy  depths  of  the 
brougham  and  despatched  under  the  guidance  of  a 
dumbly  protesting  coachman  Canonbury-wards,  he  seized 
an  opportunity  to  speak  to  his  sister. 

"  Vi,  where  did  you  pick  up  that  girl  ?  " 

Violet  looked  up,  faintly  surprised  at  his  tone. 

"  She  belong^  to  our  church,"  she  said,  "  and " — 
with  soft  fervour — "  I  think  she  is  a  darling.  Don't  you 
like  her.  C>Til?" 

"  Like  her!  I  don't  know  her.  But  I  wish  if  you 
must  make  friends  you  would  chose  one  belonging  to  our 
own  lot." 

"  She  does  belong  to  our  own  loL"  Violet  could  show 
a  gentle  dc^gedness  on  occasion.  "  You  and  I,  at  least, 
need  not  set  up  an  aristocratic  standard  of  exclusiveness." 

"  That  isn't  exactly  what  I  mean."  He  checked 
himself.  The  only  thing  he  knew  of  against  this  girl 
were  his  owti  half-formed  intentions  towards  her.  But 
the  impulse  towards  fair  dealing  died. 

"  She  isn't  a  fitting  friend  for  you,  Vi,  that's  what 
I  mean,"  he  finished,  steadily. 


XXII 


"  Where  you  been,  my  gel  ?  " 

Mrs.  Somers'  face  in  the  light  of  the  hall  lamp  showed 
anxious  lines  but  her  voice  was  steadily  cheerful.  She 
would  "  give  the  gel  her  say." 

"  I  have  been  home  with  Miss  Graeme,  mother.  I 
stayed  to  dinner." 

"  My !  "  said  Em'ly,  in  the  background. 

"What!    In  that  frock?" 

"  She  lent  me  one  of  hers,  a  white  one." 

"  My ! "  said  Emily,  again. 

"  And  'ow  did  you  come  home  ?    By  yourself  ?  " 

"  They  sent  me  home  in  the  brougham." 

"  Brougham !    Was  that  the  kerridge  I  heard  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother." 

A  hungry  silence  fell.  Lilith's  mouth  shut,  rosily 
grim.  If  it  had  been  only  her  mother  she  might  have 
given  some  account  of  her  evening,  have  pleased  and 
soothed  her  by  the  description  of  those  experiences  which 
elders  can  only  share  when  youth  condescends  to  relate, 
but  Em'ly's  ears,  yawning  for  details,  were  not  to  be 
gratified. 

'*  Then,"  said  her  mother,  presently,  "  you'll  not  want 
any  supper.  'Tis  all  ready  for  you,  downstairs,  an'  I 
med  you  a  cup  of  cocoa,  an'  all." 

The  faint  note  of  disappointment  penetrated,  for  once, 
deep  enough  to  touch. 

"  Oh,  I  would  like  the  cocoa,  mother.     I'm  thirsty." 

"  Then  come  down,  my  gel." 

The  mother-thrill  in  her  voice  woke  in  Lilith  a  dim 

compunction.    Vaguely  aware  of  an  inexplicable  cruelty 

for  which  if  she  knew  how  she  would  fain  atone,  she 

slipped  her  hand  through  her  mother's  arm  and  felt  it 

174 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  175 

held  close  for  a  moment  against  her  mother's  side. 
Emily,  despairing  of  details,  had  gone  gaping  upstairs  to 
bed.  It  was  a  moment  in  which  trembled  exquisite  possi- 
bilities of  closer  understanding  between  mother  and  child. 
But  in  the  common  room  of  a  crowded  house  the  rarest 
thing  to  be  found  is  privacy.  In  the  cushioned  wicker- 
chair  drawn  up  to  the  fireplace  lay  Algernon,  looking  very 
pale,  with  one  hand,  surgically  bound,  strapped  tightly 
across  his  chest.  Mrs.  Somers'  face  clouded.  '*  Oh, 
bother  him,"  she  said  in  an  under-tone,  and  then,  with 
quick  contrition,  "  Won't  you  have  a  bite  of  something, 
Alg'non  ?    You'd  no  supper  to  speak  of." 

He  looked  up.  "  No,  thanks,  Aunt  'Tilda.  I  ain't 
hungry.  Evening,  miss,"  he  added,  with  a  sidelong 
glance,  swiftly  averted. 

Lilith  drank  her  cocoa  and  resented  his  presence. 
Suddenly  she  realised  that  she  wanted  to  talk  to  her 
mother,  that  there  would  be  pleasure,  after  all,  in  relating 
occurrences  astonishing  in  the  present  and  prophetic  for 
the  future.  But  to  relate  anything  before  Algernon  was 
unthinkable. 

Mrs.  Somers  waited — in  vain. 

"  Well,  Lilith,  you  'aven't  much  to  say,"  she  re- 
marked, presently.  "  W'en  I've  cleared  up  these  few  we 
may  as  well  go  to  bed." 

Lilith  said  nothing,  and  her  mother  patted  softly 
about  in  felt  slippers,  "tidying  up."  And  then,  quite 
suddenly,  Algernon's  bandaged  hand  forced  itself  upon 
her  notice,  rose,  insistently  claiming  a  sympathy  she 
was  unable  to  give,  before  her  mental  vision,  suddenly 
made  impossible  the  brutality  of  leaving  him  without  at 
least  perfunctory  inquiry. 

"  Have  you — hurt  yourself  ?  "  she  asked  at  last,  com- 
mon humanity  constraining  her. 

Algernon  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"  It's  nothing,"  he  said,  shortly,  "  nothing  that  you 
need  bother  yourself  about,  I  mean." 

She  rose  and  came  to  the  fire,  placing  one  foot  on  the 


176  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

fender,  for  the  April  evening  was  chilly.  The  pretty- 
foot,  mutely  upholding  the  family  traditions  that  the  best 
of  everything  must  be  Lilith's,  was  daintily  shod.  The 
eyes  looking  down  at  him  for  once  were  gentle.  A  breath 
of  chill  repression  in  Alg'non's  reply  had  swept  over  her 
irritation  at  his  presence,  soothing  and  cool. 

"  Tell  me  how  you  did  it." 

"  Knife  slipped,  bonin'  bacon.  Not  that  it  matters 
to  you,"  in  bitter  reiteration. 

Lilith  laughed  a  little.  Girlhood  is  cruel,  and  that  he 
suffered  under  the  certainty  of  her  indifference  was  evi- 
dent and  amusing.  Alg'non  got  quickly  up  from  his  chair 
and  stood  a  moment,  mortified  and  furious.  Lilith's 
laugh  died  in  quick  compunction. 

"  I'm  not  laughing  because  you  have  hurt  yourself. 
I'm  laughing  because  you  sound  so  dreadfully  offended 
about  it,"  she  explained.  "  /  didn't  do  it,  you  know. 
I'm  very  sorry,  really." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Alg'non,  gloomily,  "sound  like  it, 
don't  you  ?  " 

Lilith  shrugged  her  shoulders  ever  so  little  and  her 
eyes  were  sweetly  apologetic.  But  Alg'non  had  at  last 
a  definite  grievance,  an  understandable  and  tangibje 
reason  for  the  resentment  and  grief  that  were  in  him,  a 
grievance  that  even  the  soft  shining  of  Lilith's  eyes  could 
not  charm  away. 

"  You're  always  the  same,"  he  went  on,  his  blue  eyes 
blazing  and  his  boyish  lips  a-quiver,  "  have  been,  ever 
since  I  come.  Laugh  at  me  and  make  fun  of  me  an' 
enjoy  it,  when  I  don't  know  things  the  same  as  you  do, 
things  you've  bin  taught  an'  I  haven't." 

"  Oh,  no,  Algernon,"  said  Lilith  quickly,  these  were 
depths  of  turpitude  to  which  she  had  certainly  never 
descended. 

"  Yes,  you  do.  I  ought  to  hate  you  for  it.  I  don't 
know  how  it  is  I  don't  hate  you.  If  you'd  been  anybody 
else  I  should  'a  done.  But  I  don't.  I  take  it  all  lyin' 
down,  an'  smile,  an'  pretend  it  doesn't  hurt,  an'  forgive 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  177 

you.  I  should  forgive  you  whatever  you  did,  more  fool 
me.  I  do  more'n  forgive  you.  I  try  to  please  you ;  there's 
nothing  I  wouldn't  do  to  please  you.  More  fool  me! — 
for  the  harder  I  try  the  less  you  think  of  me,  any  juggins 
could  see  that.  But  I  wouldn't  have  thought,"  suddenly 
reverting  to  the  cause  of  offence  present  and  particular, 
"  I  wouldn't  have  thought  that  even  you'd  ha'  shown 
yourself  glad  I'd  hurt  myself." 

"  I  wasn't,"  said  Lilith,  and  she  was  grave  enough 
now.  There  had  been  that  in  Algernon's  outburst  that 
had  prevented  even  his  phraseology  from  being  ridicu- 
lous.   "  I  laughed  at  something  quite  different." 

"  You  laughed  at  me,"  with  dreadful  certainty. 

Lilith  moved  with  a  touch  of  irritation,  but  her  eyes 
were  still  penitent. 

"  Well,  anyway,  I  won't  again." 

"Wish  I  could  believe  it." 

The  clash  of  pottery,  rhythmic  and  Subdued,  came 
from  the  scullery.  Lilith,  uneasy  and  impressed,  was 
silent,  acutely  anxious  to  get  away  from  her  companion 
but  unwilling  to  leave  her  mother.  Alg'non  looked  at 
her  softened  face  and  laid  sudden,  desperate  hold  on  his 
courage. 

"  Why  can't  you  always  be  like  this  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Like  what?  "  asked  Lilith,  adding  resentfully,  "  I'm 
no  different  from  usual,  at  least,  I  haven't  intended  to 
be." 

"  Maybe  not,  but  you  are.  An'  if  only  you'd  go  on 
so— Oh,  Lilith !  " 

"  I — I  think  I'll  go  to  bed,"  the  girl  faltered,  shrink- 
ing perceptibly.  Never  before  had  Alg'non  dared  to 
address  her  by  her  Christian  name,  and  there  was  some- 
thing dreadful,  to  her,  in  his  shaking  voice  and  the  white 
wildness  of  his  look.    "  Mother's  done — almost." 

"  No,"  returned  Alg'non,  with  unexpected  dignity. 
"  Not  till  I've  said  what  I've  got  to  say.  Lilith,  are  you 
happy  ?  " 

Lilith  stared.     What  she  had  expected  Algernon  to 


178  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

say  she  hardly  knew,  but  she  had  not  expected  that.  She 
hesitated  and  looked  at  him  and  hesitated  again. 

"  Happy !  "  she  said  at  last,  *'  I — don't  know.  I'm 
happy — in  a  way.    Not  altogether.    No  one  is." 

"  I  meant  in  your  religion,"  explained  Alg'non, 
steadily.  "  Are  you  happy  in  that  ?  Have  you  found  your 
Saviour,  Lilith  ?  " 

Lilith  was  silent,  vaguely  aware  that  it  had  not  yet 
occurred  to  her  to  look  for  him. 

"  I  wouldn't  say,"  Alg'non  went  on  presently,  "  that 
there's  only  one  way,  and  that's  ours — though  there's  a 
many  that  do.  I'm  ready  to  admit  " — he  hesitated,  it  was  a 
great  admission — "  I'm  ready  to  admit  that  there  may  be 
good  in  other  forms  of  faith.  But  it's  hard  to  see  it  in 
yours.  It's  hard  to  stand  by  and  see  you  led  away  into 
error — and  worse,  to  see  you  putting  your  faith  in  out- 
ward show  and  empty  ceremonial,  and  leaving  the  pure 
milk  of  the  word  that  the  Lord  would  have  you  drink. 
Popery  won't  buy  you  peace,  Lilith,  nor  going  a-whoring 
after  the  inventions  of  men !  " — blissfully  unconscious  that 
there  could  be  anything  in  language  so  undoubtedly 
Biblical  to  which  Lilith  might  object.  "  You're  a  strayed 
sheep,  Lilith,  that's  what  you  are,  and  one  day  you'll 
know  it.    We're  all  prayin'  for  you,  Lilith " 

"  I'm  infinitely  obliged  to  you,"  said  Lilith,  with  icy 
politeness. 

"  Oh,  Lord,  let  me  save  souls,  it's  bin  my  prayer  from 
childhood.  I  told  you  so  before,  didn't  I  ?  "  Alg'non  went 
on,  too  much  carried  away  by  the  rush  of  his  own  emotion 
to  be  silenced  by  the  frosty  fire  in  Lilith's  eyes.  "  But 
I've  altered  it  lately.  Oli,  Lord,  let  me  save  one  soul, 
that's  all  I  care  to  pray  now.  Oh,  Lord,  let  me  save 
one  soul." 

He  turned  away  from  her,  curving  his  sound  arm 
on  the  mantel  and  hiding  his  working  face  in  the  bend. 
Lilith  left  him  without  a  word,  forgetting  her  mother, 
blind  to  his  simplicity,  his  sincerity,  and  his  suffering, 
realising  nothing  for  the  momeut  but  his  profound  pre- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  179 

sumption.  He,  with  neither  system,  nor  sacraments,  nor 
sacerdotal  claims;  he,  with  nothing  but  his  prayers  to 
plead ;  to  aspire  to  save  not  others'  souls — but  hers !  It 
took  her  breath  away;  it  moved  her  to  resentment  so 
fiery  and  so  furious  that  it  was  in  sheer  fear  of  her  own 
impulse  towards  speech  that  she  fled.  Something  in  the 
girl's  very  footfall,  as  she  ran  up  the  oil-cloth  covered 
stairs,  spoke  eloquently  in  her  mother's  ear.  She  came 
out  of  the  little  scullery,  Lilith's  cup  and  saucer  in  her 
hand. 

"  You  meant  well,  Alg'non,"  she  said,  "  I  mek  no 
doubt  of  it.  But  I'm  feared  you've  done  more  'arm  than 
good,  my  boy,  all  the  same." 

"  It  was  the  word  in  season,"  groaned  Alg'non. 

"  P'raps,"  agreed  Mrs.  Somers,  doubtfully,  "  but 
words  isn't  always  in  season," 

A  dreadful  proof  of  which,  to  Alg'non's  thinking, 
occurred  the  very  next  day.  It  was  Easter  Sunday. 
Lilith  spent  the  morning  at  St.  Alphege  in  a  whirl  of 
vague  emotion,  born  of  flowers,  incense,  music,  and, 
though  this  she  did  not  realise,  the  nearness  of  the  young 
priest  whose  voice  floated  at  intervals  in  purest  music 
out  upon  the  throbbing  air.  The  remembrance  of  the 
little  congregation  in  the  Way  Street  Chapel,  publicly 
praying,  intolerable  presumption,  that  she  should  be 
brought  to  see  the  error  of  her  ways,  was  something  of 
an  anti-climax.  By  the  time  she  reached  home  a  spark 
smouldered  sombrely  in  Lilith's  eyes,  and  the  set  of  her 
mouth  promised  trouble.  The  course  of  conversation 
during  the  mid-day  meal  turned,  with  an  intention  so 
obvious  as  to  be  almost  insulting,  upon  the  Jesuits,  and 
the  many  enormities,  more  or  less  apocryphal,  in  which 
they  had  been  detected  during  the  period  in  which  their 
influence  was  paramount  in  England,  now  delivered,  by 
the  mercy  of  a  strictly  Protestant  Deity,  from  the  Papal 
yoke.  Nothing  could  have  been  less  apposite,  had  the 
little  party  only  known  it,  to  Lilith's  experiences  at  St. 
Alphege  than  the  lurid  stories  that  ran  round  that  highly 


180  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

respectable  suburban  dinner-table.  The  girl  sat  listening, 
her  eyes  bright  with  satire,  indignation  painting  its  vivid 
protest  on  her  cheeks.  But  she  said  nothing.  Mud 
thrown  so  wide  of  the  mark  was  hardly  worth  flinging 
back  again.  And  after  dinner  would  she  hurl  a  bomb 
into  the  midst  of  these  traducers  of  that  which  they  could 
not  understand,  the  remembrace  of  which  lay  warm 
below  her  disgust  at  the  tactics  of  her  household. 

But  when  the  time  came  Lilith's  hand  failed.  It  was 
not  the  fear  of  finding  herself  in  opposition  to  her  little 
world,  Lilith  had  plenty  of  courage.  It  was  the  thought 
of  the  comment,  the  misunderstanding,  the  gross  handling 
to  which  what  were  to  her  the  sacred  secrets  of  her  soul 
were  likely  to  be  subjected.  She  would  tell  her  mother. 
She  must  tell  her  mother !  Upon  this  elementary  honesty 
"  Father  Dorrington  "  insisted.    But  the  others 

"  Mother,"  she  said,  seizing  her  opportunity  when 
Jane  and  Emily  were  "  washing  up,"  and  the  two  men 
had  gone  upstairs  to  the  black  horsehair  and  white  anti- 
macassars in  the  drawing-room,  "  Mother,  I  wanted  you 
to  know — I  have  to  tell  you — I'm  going  to  make  my 
confession  this  week." 

"  Confess !  "  Mrs.  Somers  paled  visibly.  In  the  light 
of  the  stories  to  which  she  had  just  been  listening  LiHth's 
intention  stood  out  luridly  illumined. 

"  You  are  going  to  confess — to  a  man !  " 

"  To  a  priest,"  amended  Lilith. 

"  Well,  he's  a  man,  isn't  he  ? "  in  trenchant  inquiry. 
"  Lilith,  I'll  not  'ave  it.  No  daughter  of  mine  shall  be 
that  wicked.  Why,  your  poor  father  'd  turn  in  his  grave ! 
I'll  not  'ave  it,  Lilith.    I'll  stop  it,  somehow " 

"  You  can't,"  said  Lilith,  breathlessly. 

"  Jane,"  called  Mrs.  Somers,  brokenly,  "  come  here !  " 

"  Oh,  mother,  don't,"  Lilith's  protest  came  quick  and 
imploring.    "  Don't  tell  the  others." 

"  Not  tell !  Why,  I'll  tell  everybody,  everybody!  You 
may  well  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

"  I'm  not  ashamed  of  myself,"  put  in  Lilith,  quivering. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  181 

"  I  don't  wonder  you'd  rather  keep  it  quiet.  But  / 
won't  keep  it  quiet,  Lilith." 

"  Keep  what  quiet,  mother  ? "  It  was  Emily,  all 
a-gasp.    "  What's  she  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  She's  going  into  a  confessional,"  Mrs.  Somers'  voice 
was  heavy  with  horror,  "  with  a  Popish  priest." 

"  Going  to  confess — to  a  man !  "  echoed  Jane,  aghast. 
"  Goin'  to  tell  a  man — all  you  ever  did  that  you 
shouldn't!" 

Lilith  was  silent,  her  breath  coming  short.  The 
ordeal  was  heavy  enough  in  anticipation  without  this 
steady  insistence  on  the  fact  that  her  hearer  would  be  "  a 
man !  "  to  make  it  worse. 

"  Hope  you'll  tell  him  all  about  that  sweetheart  of 
yours  down  in  Belthorpe,"  said  Emily.  "  He'll  be  inter- 
ested, won't  he  ?    Tee-hee !  " 

Lilith  turned  on  her  almost  furiously,  "  You  don't 
understand,"  she  said,  controlling  herself  by  an  evident 
effort.  "  That  isn't  the  kind  of  thing  one  tells  at  all. 
There  was  nothing  wrong  in  that!  " 

"Nothing  wrong!    My!"  giggled  Emily. 

"  And  as  for  my  going  into  a  confessional,"  Lilith 
went  on  with  rising  excitement,  "  you  don't  know  what 
you  are  talking  about.  It's  only  the  vestry,  a  little  room 
where  all  the  surplices  and  things  are  kept,  a  room  where 
anybody  and  everybody  goes." 

"  Will  the  door  be  locked  ?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Somers. 

"  I  had  to  tell  you,"  Lilith  hurried  on,  disregarding 
the  interruption.  "  I  didn't  want,  but  Father  Dorrington 
said  I  must.  I  knew  you  would  object,  all  of  you;  but 
it  doesn't  matter,  I'm  going  to  do  it,  all  the  same." 

"  And  however  much  I  may  object  it  doesn't  matter,'* 
repeated  Mrs.  Somers,  steadily.  "  I  think  I'll  have  to  go 
and  see  this  Father  Dorrington.  Is  he  an  old  man, 
Lilith?" 

"  No,  he's  quite  voung." 

"  I  I  !  "  said  Jane. 

"  !   !   ! "  said  Emily. 


182  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  'Tis  a  terrible  thing  to  see  a  sister  in  the  Lord  led 
astray."  Lilith  started.  It  was  the  Rev.  Samuel's  voice. 
Jane,  doubting  the  family  ability  to  deal  with  so  desperate 
a  situation,  had  fetched  him.  "  You're  leaning  on  an 
arm  of  flesh,  Lilith,  an'  a  broken  reed  you'll  find  it.  He's 
only  a  man,  Lilith,  same  as  the  rest  of  us.  How  can  he 
forgive  your  sins?    It's  folly  and  worse." 

"  But — you  don't  understand,"  said  Lilith  desperately, 
"  he  doesn't  pretend  to  forgive  them  himself,  only  to 
assure  those  who  are  truly  penitent  of  God's  forgiveness." 

"  Why,"  rejoined  the  Rev.  Samuel,  "  you  don't  sup- 
pose he's  the  only  one  that  can  do  that  1  /  could  do  that ! 
If  that's  all  you  want  why  can't  you  come  and  confess 
your  sins  to  me!  " 

His  eyes  warmed  a  little  as  he  spoke.  There  was 
something  subtly  alluring  in  the  thought  of  this  particular 
"  little  sister  in  the  Lord  "  taking  him  into  her  innermost 
confidence. 

Lilith  shrank  in  disgusted  recoil.  Stripped  of  its 
picturesque  trappings  of  Divine  commission,  of  robes 
and  secrecy  and  ceremonial,  the  amazing  pretension  stood 
out  for  what  it  really  was. 

"  If  it  comes  to  that  why  should  she  confess  her  sins 
to  anyone  but  God — who  knows  them  already,"  said  Jane. 
"  Lilith,  dear,  you'll  not  do  it.  You  may  have  been 
brought  up  church,  but  you  weren't  brought  up  to  Popery. 
Think  of  your  mother,  Lilith.  You'll  not  do  it  for  her 
sake !  " 

"  I  believe  it  to  be  my  duty,"  said  Lilith,  steadily. 

"  Ay,  she's  set  on  it,"  agreed  Mrs.  Somers,  her  eyes 
filling  slowly  with  tears  as  they  followed  the  girl  from 
the  room.  "  But  there's  a  good  deal  that  ain't  religion 
at  the  bottom  of  it,  trust  a  mother's  feelings  to  find  that 
out.  Don't  you  take  it  to  heart,  Alg'non,"  glancing 
heavily  across  to  where  Algernon  sat  gloomy  and  pale 
at  the  other  side  of  the  long  table.  "  You've  done  your 
best  for  her.  Never  a  man  could  have  prayed  more  hearty 
and  more  eloquent  than  you  prayed  this  morning.    I'd  let 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  183 

her  go  her  own  gait  now,  I  would,  an'  try  to  be  happy 
an'  forget  her.  It  won't  do  no  good  for  you  to  fret 
over  her.    Only  th'  Lord  can  save  her  now." 

"  Don't  you  take  on,  Alg'non,"  the  whisper  reached 
him,  softly  feminine,  sweet  with  sympathy.  It  was 
Emily.  Alg'non  smiled  wanly.  It  was  not  unpleasant 
to  be  the  object  of  the  family  solicitude,  to  have  his  efforts 
for  the  good  of  another  appreciated,  even  admired,  and 
his  unhappiness  soothed  and  swept  aside,  even  by  Emily. 
Mrs.  Somers  left  them  sitting  side  by  side,  discussing  in 
whispers  the  blasting  phenomenon  of  this  cropping  up 
of  Catholic  tendencies  in  a  Protestant  household. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  to  Jane,  as  leaning  on  her  plump  and 
comfortable  arm  she  went  slowly  up  the  dark  kitchen 
stairs.  "  Em'ly  '11  get  him,  in  th'  end.  A  woman  alius 
does  get  a  man,  if  she  only  wants  him  bad  enough." 


XXIII 


A  May  morning.  In  the  country  the  last  of  the  black- 
thorn flung  its  fairy  spray  here  and  there  across  the 
hedges,  and  the  first  of  the  hawthorn  opened  its  creamy 
buds  and  shyly  showed  its  coral  stamens  to  a  waiting 
world.  The  chestnuts'  tapering  spires  waxed  whiter  day 
by  day,  and  the  cuckoo  called  insistently  in  joyous  antici- 
pation one  moment,  in  yearning  distress  the  next,  to  the 
mate  whose  low  note,  bubbling  with  laughter,  is  heard  so 
seldom  in  reply.  In  London  women  and  girls  who  had 
come  out  in  the  early  coolness  now  carried  their  jackets 
over  their  arms.  The  very  asphalt  felt  hot  to  the  feet, 
for  the  bright  sun,  hanging  high  in  heaven,  shone  down 
without  pity  on  dusty  streets  and  perspiring  horses.  Its 
rays,  hot  and  golden,  poured  through  the  grimy  windows 
at  St.  Alphege,  and  lit  its  shadowy  aisles,  touching  here 
a  woman's  face,  lined  and  worn  with  life's  hard  lessons, 
there  a  young  girl's  smooth  cheek  waiting  yet  the  grav- 
ing that  should  be  written  on  it,  here  a  hat  with  sweeping 
and  costly  plumes  crowning  the  fashionable  costume  of 
the  wealthy  worshipper  vainly  seeking  the  safe  and 
middle  way  between  the  claims  of  God  and  Mammon, 
there  the  shadowy  black  veil  of  the  woman  who,  as  a 
sister  of  mercy,  vowed  to  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience, 
had  definitely  made  her  choice.  For  a  little  knot  of 
women  were  kneeling  there  waiting  their  turn  for  absolu- 
tion, women  for  whom  the  audible  message  from  mortal 
lips  was  the  one  and  only  sufficient  assurance  of  the  mercy 
of  the  Infinite.  And  among  them  was  Lilith,  Lilith, 
leaning  heavily  against  the  book  rest,  sick  and  faint  with 
excitement  that  she  took  to  be  spiritual,  filled  with  an 
unspeakable  dread  of  the  ordeal  before  her,  yet  aware 
that  she  would  have  laid  down  life  itself  rather  than  have 

184 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  185 

evaded  it.  It  was  not  from  any  overwhelming  conscious- 
ness of  sin  that  she  had  sought  the  consolation  of  the 
sacrament.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  had  been  a  subtle 
disappointment  to  her  that  she  could  honestly  convict 
herself  of  so  little.  The  soul  that  was  truly  athirst  for 
righteousness,  she  had  read  in  one  mischievous  manual, 
was  acutely  conscious  of  its  stains.  The  faintest  shadow 
of  ill  was  detected  by  it,  even  as  it  but  floated,  evanescent 
and  harmless,  across  its  spotlessness.  Then  had  begun 
for  Lilith  a  series  of  soul-searchings  after  unsuspected 
spiritual  smirchings.  Her  most  innocent  impulses,  her 
sweetest  and  most  natural  affections  were  held  up  to 
scrutiny  lest  a  hitherto  undreamt-of  evil  should  lurk,  a 
hidden  germ  of  possible  future  depravity,  beneath  their 
smiling  surfaces.  The  thing  was  as  unwholesome  as  it 
was  unremunerative.  It  was  with  a  distinct  sense  of 
disappointment  that  she  had  not  greater  need  of  repent- 
ance that  Lilith  knelt  on  the  cold  stone  floor  and  felt  the 
hard  beating  of  her  heart  against  the  book  rest,  whereon 
her  mischievous  little  manuel  lay. 

But  one  thought,  of  which,  had  she  been  in  a  more 
healthy  frame  of  mind,  she  might  well  have  repented, 
kept  rising  insistently  in  her  mind.  When  he  had  heard 
all  that  she  had  to  tell  him,  when  he  knew  her  through 
and  through,  every  error,  every  impulse,  every  thought, 
what  would  he  think  of  her?  How  would  she  compare 
with  his  other  penitents — those  other  women  whose  souls 
he  knew  through  and  through,  every  error,  every  impulse, 
every  thought  ?  She  had  been  told  to  put  on  one  side  all 
recollection  of  personality — to  see  not  the  man,  faulty 
and  human  like  herself,  but  the  minister  of  grace ;  to  hear 
not  the  words  of  the  fellow-sinner,  but  the  voice  of  God 
speaking  audibly  through  his  priest.  But  how  to  do 
this  when  her  heart  thrilled  to  his  every  tone  and  his 
smile  sank  into  her  soul  like  sunshine?  A  woman  rose 
beside  her,  for  the  vestry  door  had  opened  and  a  penitent, 
absolved  and  tearful,  come  out.  The  door  closed  again, 
it  would  be  Lilith's  turn  next.     She  opened  her  manual 


186  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

hurriedly  to  see  that  her  confession  paper  was  in  its 
place.  It  hardly  seemed  a  moment  before  the  door 
opened  again,  and  Lilith  was  walking  on  faltering  and 
unsteady  feet  vestrywards. 

Dorrington  was  standing  when  Lilith  entered,  tall  and 
slim  in  his  clinging  robes  of  black  and  white.  A  pocket- 
book  in  which  he  was  writing  was  in  his  hands,  and  he 
looked  at  Lilith  as  she  entered  with  grave  eyes,  calm  and 
cool.  Under  the  tall  lancet  window,  filled  with  tiny 
diamond  panes  of  clear  glass,  stood  a  table,  in  front  of 
which  was  a  hassock.  He  motioned  silently  that  she 
should  kneel  down.  Lilith  closed  the  door  and  bolted  it. 
At  the  sound  of  the  bolt  shot  home  he  turned  sharply. 

"  Don't  do  that,"  he  said. 

"  But — someone  may  come  in." 

"  No,  no  one  will  come  in,"  with  grave  gentleness. 

"  The — the  blind,"  faltered  Lilith,  for  a  path  ran 
round  the  back  of  the  church  under  the  window,  and 
anyone  passing  could  see  into  the  vestry.  "  Shall  I  pull 
it  down  ?  " 

**  You  are  not  ashamed  of  what  you  are  doing,  are 
you  ?  " — there  was  a  touch  of  sternness  in  Dorrington's 
voice. 

"  No,  oh,  no,  but " 

"  Then  it  does  not  matter  who  sees  you.  Leave  the 
blind  up,  my  child." 

He  took  his  purple  stcJle  from  the  back  of  the  rush- 
bottomed  chair  set  at  one  end  of  the  table,  kissed  the 
embroidered  cross  at  the  back  and  passed  it  over  his 
head.  Lilith  knelt  down  on  the  hassock  and  leant  her 
throbbing  heart  hard  on  the  table  edge. 

"  The  Lord  be  within  thy  heart  and  upon  thy  lips 
that  thou  mayest  reverently  confess  thy  sins." 

It  was  the  accepted  formula  and  had  passed  his  lips 
thirteen  or  fourteen  times  already  that  day.  But  to 
Lilith  it  was  as  the  voice  of  an  archangel,  arresting  and 
awful.     Almost  inaudibly  she  followed,  also  in  the  pre- 


TliE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  187 

scribed  formula  that  should  introduce  the  tale  of  those 
sins  such  spiritual  vision  as  she  possessed  had  shown 
her  that  by  her  fault,  by  her  own  fault,  by  her  own  most 
grievous  fault  she  had  committed.  It  sounded  a  poor, 
almost  a  mean  little  list.  Nothing  arresting,  nothing 
dramatic  lifted  it  above  the  region  of  common-place, 
almost  pitiful  common-place.  Vaguely  she  was  aware 
that  she  would  have  found  things  more  satisfactory  had 
she  been  a  greater  criminal.  Dorrington,  his  elbow  on 
the  table-end,  listened  gravely,  one  slender,  nervous,  too- 
refined  hand  shading  his  face,  to  the  story  of  her  dis- 
content, her  selfishness,  her  irritability,  her  rebellion 
against  parental  control,  her  want  of  love  for,  she  had 
almost  said  dislike  of,  her  sisters,  her  forgetfulness, 
neglect  of  duty,  sloth,  her  evil  thoughts — had  she  known 
what  her  phrases  here  suggested  to  her  hearer  she  would 
have  recoiled  in  paralysed  horror! — her  envy  of  those 
above  her,  her  covetousness !  How  many  people  know 
what  is  really  meant  by  the  words  envy  and  covetousness  ? 
Certainly  Lilith  did  not.  "  And  for  all  these,"  she  fin- 
ished in  pitiful  distress,  "  do  I  honestly  purpose  amend- 
ment, humbly  ask  pardon  of  God,  and  of  you,  my  father, 
counsel,  penance,  and  absolution." 

Dorrington  was  silent  a  moment.  A  vague  discomfort 
had  oppressed  him  of  late  whenever  he  had  remembered 
Lilith's  coming  confession,  a  discomfort,  almost  dread, 
so  pronounced  that  he  had  discovered,  to  his  shame, 
an  inclination  to  postpone,  almost  to  prevent  it.  And 
now  it  was  over,  and  on  lines  altogether  normal,  almost 
stereotyped.  He  drew  a  long,  hard  breath  of  relief,  con- 
scious relief,  and  his  grave  glance  rested  for  a  moment 
full  upon  the  kneeling  girlish  figure  and  shame-bowed 
head. 

"  It  is — an  honest  confession  ?  You  have  been — 
absolutely  sincere  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  I  have  done  my  very  best'* 

"  You  have — nothing  more  to  say  ?  " 


188  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Suddenly  Lilith  raised  herself,  her  hands  gripped 
hard  on  the  taJble  edge,  her  wide  and  changing  eyes  meet- 
ing his  in  woeful  and  direct  appeal. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  there  is  something  else  I  should 
like  to  say,  because  the  things  I  have  said,  so  far — I 
don't  mean  that  they  are  not  bad  enough,  but  they  don't 
seem  to  be  the  worst  part  of  me  at  all.  What  seems 
worst  in  me,  to  myself,  is  that  until  lately  I  haven't 
wanted  to  be  good  at  all.  It  is  only  since  I  have  seen 
you — that  I  have  really  cared.  So  long  as  I  am  near  you, 
when  I  hear  you  speak,  if  I  can  look  to  you  to  help  me, 
ah,  then,  indeed,  I  would  be  good.  But  if  I  hadn't  you  to 
help  me,  if  I  were  away  from  you,"  a  choking  sob  silenced 
her,  the  tears  came,  a  very  flood.  She  crushed  herself  into 
quiet,  and  again  raised  her  wet  face  and  drowned,  flower- 
like  eyes.  "  Oh,"  she  said,  desperately,  "  it  is  only  where 
you  are  that  I  care.  If  God  took  you  away  from  me  I 
shouldn't  try  to  be  good,    I  shouldn't  care  to." 

Dorrington's  lips  went  a  little  dry.  It  had  come,  the 
artless  betrayal,  the  open,  innocent  acknowledgment  of 
what  he  knew  now  he  had  feared  from  the  first.  Sudden 
revolt  afflicted  him,  revolt  against  the  system  which  can 
send  its  followers,  blindfold,  to  walk  amongst  red-hot 
ploughshares  such  as  these.  His  eyes  filled  with  pity,  a 
pity  that  was  both  curious  and  cold.  He  was  conscious 
of  shrinking,  a  shrinking  that  he  told  himself  was  born 
of  reverence  for  a  sacrament  profaned,  albeit  uncon- 
sciously, for  as  yet  he  did  not  recognise  his  impulse  for 
what  it  was,  the  faint  nausea  of  the  unresponsive  male. 
His  voice  when  he  spoke  was  heavy  with  reproof. 

"  That  is  not  a  right  spirit,  Lilith." 

"  No." 

"  Repentance  and  the  desire  of  amendment,  if  it  is 
sincere,  does  not  depend  upon  the  presence  or  absence 
of — of  any  particular  spiritual  director.  It  is  a  matter 
that  should  lie  between  yourself — and  God." 

"  Yes,"   said   Lilith,   in   heartbroken   acquiescence. 

"  It  might  happen  that  I  should  consider  it  for  your 


i 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  189 

good,  for  your  truest  spiritual  advancement,  to  put  you 
into — other  hands,  to  give  up  your  guidance  to " 

"  Oh,  don't,"  the  words  came  with  a  cry,  "  don't  send 
me  away  from  you.  I  can't,  I  can't  be  good  away  from 
you." 

Silence  fell  in  the  little  vestry.  Dorrington's  eye- 
lids dropped  over  grieved,  almost  angry  eyes.  Lilith  hid 
her  face  in  the  bend  of  her  arm  and  waited,  quivering. 
If  he  sent  her  away  from  him  to  the  vicar — to  Mr.  Hol- 
royd,  perhaps!    If  he  did! 

"  I  do  not  think  this  sounds  to  me  like  true  repent- 
ance. I  do  not  think — I  say  it  with  reluctance — ^but  I 
do  not  think  I  can  give  you  absolution  to-day.  I  will 
ask  you — to  take  another  fortnight,  and  as  penance  to  try 
and  bring  your  mind  into  harmony  with  the  eternal 
righteousness.  When  you  can  come  to  me,  Lilith,  and 
tell  me  that  it  is  your  ardent  desire,  your  unalterable 
intention,  to  do  that  which  is  right  under  any  and  every 
condition,  wherever  you  may  be,  wherever  /  may  be " 

Lilith  rose.  It  was,  of  course,  an  awful  thing  to  be 
refused  absolution,  to  be,  in  Norman  Dorrington's  opinion, 
unfit  to  be  cleansed,  to  have  the  burden  of  her  sins 
strapped  once  again  remorselessly  to  her  back.  But 
she  had  not,  after  all,  been  very  conscious  of  their  weight, 
nor  keenly  desirous  of  deliverance.  Peace,  a  peace  to 
which  she  knew  she  had  no  right,  filled  her  soul  as  she 
made  her  way  back  into  the  church  "  unshriven,  unas- 
soilzied,  unannealed."  At  least,  now  he  knew  the  worst 
of  her.  After  all,  whispered  spiritual  vanity,  it  wasn't 
very  bad.  And  she  had  once  again  a  claim  to  his  interest, 
his  sympathy,  to  his  undivided  attention,  for  a  whole 
quarter  of  an  hour — in  a  fortnight. 

Dorrington  stood  up,  hung  his  stole  over  the  back 
of  his  chair,  and  rapidly  entered  in  his  pocket-book  the 
date  of  Lilith's  next  confession. 

"  It  would  have  been  better  if  McNeil  had  taken  her 
from  the  first.    I  always  knew  it  would,"  he  told  himself. 


190  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

The  door  opened  again.  There  entered  a  fresh 
penitent. 

It  was  some  days  before  Lilith  saw  him  in  any  other 
than  his  sacerdotal  character,  shrouded  in  vestment  and 
ceremony,  set  apart  in  sanctity  and  awe.  But  one  week- 
day morning,  after  he  had  intoned  most  sweetly  a 
metrical  litany  and  read  most  eloquently  part  of  the  life  of 
a  feminine  saint  whose  whole  attitude  of  mind,  had  she 
only  known  it,  was  an  outrage  on  that  human  nature  she 
professed  to  believe  was  fashioned  by  God,  he  stood  at 
the  bottom  of  the  church  awaiting  her. 

"I  wanted  to  see  you,"  he  told  her,  as  her  hand  lay 
cold  and  tremulous  for  an  instant  in  his  grave  and  kindly 
grasp.    "  You  are  coming  with  us  on  Thursday,  Lilith  ?  " 

"  Where  ?  "  asked  Lilith,  breathlessly. 

For  a  subtle  difference  in  their  relationship  struck 
sharply  upon  her  consciousness.  They  were  not  now 
father-confessor  and  penitent,  his  manner  marked  the 
fact,  but  assistant  parish  priest  and  parishioner,  a  very 
different  thing. 

"  To  Westleigh.  Lady  Mildred  Manners,"  his  muscles 
stuck  a  little,  but  he  got  the  name  out  without  actually 
stammering,  "  has  invited  all  the  Communicants'  Guild 
down  for  the  day.  I  thought  you  didn't  know.  It  is — 
very  good  of  her,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  But — I  am  not  a  communicant." 

"  You  belong  to  the  class.  You  will  be  soon,  I  hope." 
The  blood  went  thundering  back  upon  Lilith's  heart. 
Was  he  referring  to  that  which  he  and  she,  alone  in  all 
the  world,  knew?  Was  he  suggesting  that  when  she 
knelt  before  him  once  again,  a  penitent  sinner,  she  was  to 
be  indeed  forgiven ?  "I  shall  expect  to  see  you  with  the 
others,  then?  At  Charing  Cross,  half-past  eight,  on 
Thursday  morning  ?  " 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  said  Lilith,  shyly. 

There  were  five  days  to  live  through  somehow.  They 
passed  one  by  one,  and  Thursday  came.  Mrs.  Somers 
was  up  early.     A  hint  had  reached  her,  though  Lilith 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  191 

had  in  no  way  taken  her  mother  into  her  confidence,  that 
the  girl  would  need  an  early  meal,  and  when  Lilith  ran 
down  into  the  basement  for  the  glass  of  milk  and  piece 
of  bread  and  butter  she  had  intended  should  suffice,  she 
found  a  dainty  breakfast  laid  for  her  on  the  corner  of 
the  table,  and  her  mother  in  the  room  alone.  It  softened 
Lilith  suddenly.  She  smiled  into  the  wistful  eyes,  full 
of  pained  questioning,  that  met  hers  across  the  table 
corner,  and  condescended  to  gratify  that  mother's  hungry 
heart  with  detail.  It  was  scanty,  but  it  sufficed.  Mrs. 
Somers  turned  from  watching  the  dainty  little  figure  in 
blue-sprigged  muslin  that  paused  at  the  street  end  to 
wave  a  slender  hand  in  white  cotton  glove,  and  her  eyes 
were  satisfied  and  her  fears  at  rest. 

"  It's  a  treat,  Jane,"  she  said,  "  sort  of  Sunday  school 
affair ! "  The  situation  was  familiar  and  reassuring. 
"  After  all,  she  can't  be  going  so  very  far  wrong  if  that's 
the  kind  of  thing  she  takes  a  pleasure  in." 

The  platform  at  Charing  Cross  was  crowded  already 
when  Lilith  got  there,  though  it  was  only  twenty  min- 
utes past  eight,  but  nowhere,  nowhere  could  she  see 
"  Father  Dorrington."  Instead  there  was  Violet,  greeting 
her  with  softest  fervour. 

"  Oh,  Lilith,  I'm  so  glad  you've  come.  There  isn't 
anyone  else  I  should  really  have  liked  to  be  with,  but 
now  you  are  here  it  will  be  all  lovely."  Lilith's  face 
flashed  suddenly,  inexplicably  into  radiance,  but  not,  as 
Violet  thought,  in  delightful  response.  A  tall  black 
figure  was  coming  with  most  unclerical  strides  up  the 
platform,  a  little  sheaf  of  green  tickets  in  his  hand. 
"  You  haven't  seen  Mildred's  house,  have  you  ?  I'll 
take  you  all  over  it,  it  is  so  pretty.  Oh,  don't  get  in 
there,"  as  Lilith's  feet  moved  almost  automatically 
toward  where  Father  Dorrington  stood  talking  to  a  group 
of  girls  in  shining  black  sailor  hats  and  brown  fur  stoles. 
"  Leave  Norman  to  his  factory  girls,  they  all  adore  him, 
and  you  come  with  me.    We'll  have  a  lovely  day  together. 


l9St  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Lilith.  I — I  like  factory  girls,  of  course,  but  one  does 
tire  of  them  after  a  while." 

"  Leave  off  shovin',  Gladys,"  admonished  one  of 
them  at  this  moment.  "  Father,"  in  shrill  appeal,  "  myke 
'er  behyve  'erself.  No,  you  ain't.  I'm  goin'  to  set  next 
'im;  'e  promised  me  weeks  ago.  'Ere,  Ruby,  look  out 
where  you're  goin'." 

"  Not  with  you,  fathead,"  retorted  Ruby,  sticking  out 
a  provoking  chin.  "  Co'ney  'Atch  ain't  attractive,  not 
with  you  in  it,  any  way." 

"  Got  too  much  to  sye,  you  'ave,"  remarked  the  first 
speaker,  darkly.  "  Always  'ad  too  much  mouf,  you  'ad. 
What's  the  matter  wiv  it  ?  Did  yer  muvver  feed  you  wiv 
a  shovel  ?  " — at  which  Ruby  danced  a  disdainful  two- 
step  on  the  platform,  and  the  others  shrieked  in  delighted 
chorus. 

Lilith's  eyebrows  rose  in  faint  disgust.  Even  to  travel 
in  the  same  carriage  with  "  Father  Dorrington  "  was  an 
uninviting  prospect  when  she  must  share  him  with  com- 
panions such  as  these.  There  was  all  the  day  before  her. 
Already  a  smile  and  a  cordial  handshake  had  graced  the 
morning,  and  all  days,  to  be  happy,  should  be  progressive. 
She  would  wait  for  the  developments  that  a  day  so  full 
of  possibilities  would  be  sure  to  bring.  Perhaps,  whis- 
pered vanity,  if  she  were  in  another  carriage  he  would 
miss  her,  would  look  for  her,  would  bestow  upon  her  some 
slight  but  signal  mark  of  his  regard,  that  regard  which 
must,  in  its  essence,  differ  altogether  from  that  he  could 
bestow  upon  such  girls  as  Gladys  and  Ruby  and  Ivy 
Christine.  She  did  her  best  to  respond  to  Violet's  soft 
fervour  of  friendship,  but  an  aching  little  wonder  as 
to  what  was  going  on  in  that  other  carriage  rendered 
her  inattentive  and  a  thought  distraite.  And  then  the 
train  drew  up  at  a  little  wayside  station,  overhung  with 
tremulous  birch  boughs  and  sweet  with  the  breath  of  lilac. 
Brakes  waited  under  the  flickering  tree  shadows  in  the 
road,  the  grinning  drivers  all  had  ribbons  on  their  whips, 
and  beech  boughs,  tenderly  green,  nodding  and  waving  at 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  193 

their  horses'  ears.  Gladys  and  Ruby  and  Ivy  Christine 
and  their  kin  tumbled  themselves  with  shrieks  of  ecstasy 
into  the  foremost,  over-flowed  into  the  second,  and  filtered 
back,  in  disgusted  twos  and  threes,  to  the  depressing  and 
uncongenial  society  of  the  little  group  of  indulgently 
smiling  lady  helpers  standing  by  the  third. 

"  Oh,  there  is  going  to  be  plenty  of  room,"  decided 
Violet,  with  relief.  "  Come  along,  Lilith,  we  may  as  well 
get  in.    The  others  have  started." 

They  had.  From  the  first  brake  came  stridently  "  By 
the  side  of  the  Zuyder  Zee,"  a  strain  that  changed  some- 
what abruptly  to  "  The  Church's  One  Foundation." 

"  Oh,"  said  Violet,  her  eyebrows  rising  in  acute  dis- 
taste, "  don't  let  our  lot  sing." 

"  My  dear,"  said  one  of  the  lady  helpers,  "  they  won't 
be  happy  if  they  can't." 

Lilith  said  nothing.  The  brightness  had  gone  out  of 
the  sun  and  the  colour  out  of  the  sky.  Father  Dorrington 
was  in  the  first  brake,  surrounded  by  adoring  factory 
girls,  and  it  mattered  nothing  and  less  than  nothing  to 
her  whether  "  their  lot "  sang  or  they  didn't.  Details  of 
the  drive  escaped  her,  it  was  a  half-hour  to  be  lived 
through,  not  enjoyed.  The  next  thing  of  which  she  was 
acutely  conscious  was  of  turning  in  at  a  handsome  iron 
gate  between  shrubberies  of  rhododendron,  and  stopping 
before  a  low,  red-brick  house ;  a  handsome  Tudor  house 
with  twisted  chimneys  and  hooded  dormer  windows  in  a 
high-pitched  roof,  and  oaken  doors,  heavily  studded  with 
iron,  standing  wide.  Behind  them  was  a  square  hall, 
cool  and  dark,  lightened  here  and  there  with  richly  col- 
oured pottery,  lit  up  in  shadowy  corners  with  the  gleam 
of  beaten  brass  work.  At  the  further  side  of  it  were 
other  wide-flung  doors,  opening  upon  a  glittering  sun- 
bathed garden,  and  such  a  picture  of  green  and  gentle 
beauty,  of  wooded  hill-slopes,  luscious  pastures,  and 
murmuring  stream  as  only  the  English  midlands  can 
show.  And  in  the  cool  shadows  of  the  hall  stood  the 
mistress  of  this  fair  inheritance,  a  tall  g^rl  simply  dressed 
13 


194  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

in  white,  with  a  lilac  ribbon  about  her  waist,  and  a  broad 
and  shady  hat,  lilac  wreathed,  upon  her  fair  hair. 
Norman  Dorrington  stood  beside  her,  his  slender  black- 
ness a  most  efficient  foil.  She  kissed  Violet,  whispering 
some  laughing  jest  that  Lilith  failed  to  catch,  and  turned 
to  Violet's  companion. 

"  So  this  is  Lilith,"  she  said,  offering  a  cool  and  easy 
hand.  "  You  must  forgive  my  having  forgotten  your 
other  name.  Oh,  yes,  you  know  me," — smiling  sud- 
denly into  Lilith's  astonished  eyes.  "  I  sat  beside  you 
once  in  church,  don't  you  remember  ?  " 

Lilith  did  not  answer,  whether  she  remembered  or 
not  being  very  evidently  of  little  importance.  Violet  gave 
her  hand  a  little  pull. 

"  Oh,  come  along,"  she  said,  "  don't  let  us  waste  our 
time  indoors.  Come  into  the  sunshine  and  let  us  enjoy 
ourselves." 

For  a  moment  Lilith  hesitated.  Norman  Dorrington 
made  no  movement  to  come  out  into  the  sunshine.  On 
his  face  was  a  look  of  peculiar  absorption,  of  complete 
detachment  from  his  material  surroundings,  of  a  momen- 
tary but  entire  forgetfulness  of  duties  that  insistently 
called.  He  stood  by  his  hostess'  side  straight  and  still. 
It  was  almost  as  though  he  could  not  imagine  himself 
anywhere  else.  A  sudden  vague  antagonism  rose  in 
Lilith's  heart,  a  sudden  hatred,  hot  and  bitter,  of  this 
woman,  beautiful,  wealthy,  confident,  composed,  who 
had  casually  noticed  her  and  made  her  welcome  to  the 
day's  pleasure  as  carelessly  as  she  would  have  tossed 
crumbs  to  a  hungry  sparrow. 

"  Aren't  you  coming,  Lilith  ?  "  asked  Violet,  in  gentle 
surprise. 

Lilith  lifted  leaden  feet  and  prepared  to  "enjoy 
herself." 


XXIV 


"  So  you  have  brought  your  collection  of  oddities  ?  " 

"  Don't,  Mildred." 

"  Well,  aren't  they  oddities  ?  " 

"  They  are  all  immortal  souls." 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  concerned  with  their  souls! — ^though 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  one  could  only  see  them  they  would 
be  the  oddest  things  about  them " 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  flippant." 

"  There !  I'm  in  disgrace  already !  And  after  all 
it  isn't  quite  the  right  thing  to  lecture  your  hostess.  I 
beg  your  pardon  " — with  a  laughing  glance.  "  I  forgot 
your  sacerdotal  character,  forgot,  in  a  word,  that  I  was 
entertaining  a  Priest.  I  like  him  better,  you  know,  when 
he  doesn't  grace  his  high  pretensions  with  a  capital  P." 

Dorrington's  face  clouded.  It  was  not  only  for  Lilith 
that  the  day  had  begun  badly.  Lady  Mildred  saw  it  and 
shot  him  another  glance,  mischievous,  apologetic,  alto- 
gether adorable. 

"  Come  out  into  the  garden,  you'll  be  better-tempered, 
then,"  she  said,  and  her  eyes,  demurely  dropped,  danced 
at  her  own  daring.  "  I  dare  say  it  sounds  very  imper- 
tinent of  me  to  speak  to  you  like  that  but  really,  Norman, 
it's  for  your  own  good.  It  must  be  bad  for  any  man, 
especially  a  young  one,  to  be  treated  as  those  girls  treat 
you,  exaggerated  deference  as  human  nature's  daily  food 
isn't  healthy,  you  know.  It's  a  good  thing  you  have  me 
occasionally  as  an  antidote.  I  hope  you  will  like  my 
arrangements  for  my  guests.  I've  made  it  as  much 
like  Hampstead  Heath  as  possible.  There's  a  cocoanut- 
shy  and  a  gipsy  fortune-teller.  Open  to  objections  from 
the  *  imco '  guid'  both  of  them,  I  know,  but  I'll  take  all 
the  responsibility.    And  there's  a  boat  on  the  river,  and 

196 


196  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

an  archery  target,  and  a  luncheon  tent  as  complete  as  I 
could  make  it  even  to  the  iced  coffee " 

"  You  are  too  good,"  answered  Dorrington,  with 
real  gratitude.  "  I  only  hope  they  will  do  no  harm  to 
your  exquisite  gardens." 

"  Oh,  bless  them,  let  them  enjoy  themselves,"  re- 
turned Mildred,  laughing,  "  so  long  as  they  don't  actually 
trample  over  the  beds  and  dig  death-traps  in  the  lawn. 
I  wouldn't  answer  for  McGraith  then ;  he's  "  dour " 
enough  already.  Couldn't  you  have  persuaded  some  of 
them  to  leave  their  furs  at  home,  Norman?  It's  75  in 
the  shade." 

"  Do  you  think  I  have  time  to  concern  myself  about 
that  sort  of  thing  ?  "  inquired  Dorrington,  quickly. 

"  Ah,  of  course,  I  am  unregenerate.  To  me  bodies 
come  first,  they  are  certainly  most  in  evidence,  aren't 
they?  To  me — I  can't  help  it,  Norman — it  would  be  a 
matter  of  greater  necessity  that  that  girl,  for  instance  " — 
indicating  a  rather  gfrimy  specimen — "  understood  the 
importance  of  the  daily  bath  than  the  inner  meaning  of 
the  Athanasian  Creed." 

"  Poor  Athanasian  Creed !  I  wonder  w  hat  our  ene- 
mies would  do  without  it,"  said  Dorrington,  with  a  touch 
of  irritation.  "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  don't  suppose  one 
of  my  girls  has  ever  heard  of  it.  We  say  it  in  church 
three  times  a  year,  but  as  for  attempting  to  explain 
it " 

"  No,  it's  wiser  not,  isn't  it  ? "  agreed  Mildred, 
smoothly. 

Dorrington  glanced  at  her,  and  pain  and  grief  were 
in  his  look.  What  was  she  trj-ing  to  do?  Accentuate, 
insist  upon  already,  the  unfortunate  differences  in  their 
outlook  upon  life?  Show  him,  thus  early,  the  folly  that 
may  lie  in  dreams?  Spoil  at  its  outset  a  day,  one  of  the 
few  days,  he  might  have  counted  happy  ?  Mildred's  mis- 
chievous face  softened  into  compunction. 

"  Did  you  know  Auntie  Pat  was  coming  ?  "  she  asked. 

"No.    Is  she?" 


i 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  197 

"  Yes,  with  her  devoted  squire,  Mr.  Wylford,  and  I 
expect  Cyril  also  in  her  train.  What  a  mistake  birthdays 
are !  Now,  if  Auntie  Pat  did  not  know  she  was  seventy- 
seven  she  would  realise  at  once  that  the  ideal  wife  for 
Mr.  Wylford  is — ^herself.  But  since  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury divides  them " 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  only  that.  The  most  potent  factor  of 
all  in  matrimonial  arrangements,  personal  attraction " 

"  Falls,  as  is  nearly  always  the  case,  upon  an  almost 
ideally  unsuitable " 

"  You  mean  Violet  ?  But  Violet  will  not  listen.  She 
knows  there  can  be  no  true  union  between  a  loyal 
daughter  of  the  Church  and  such  a  man  as  Wylford.  It 
would  be  unnatural,  unthinkable " 

At  something  in  Mildred's  face  the  hot  words  died. 
Was  not  he,  a  priest,  toying  with  temptation? — persuad- 
ing himself,  almost,  that  another  union  as  unnatural,  more 
unthinkable,  was  a  possible,  even  a  desirable  thing  ?  He 
lifted  his  head  and  his  face  went  a  little  grey  in  the  sum- 
mer sunshine.  Out  upon  the  green  field  his  girls  were 
dotted  about  in  twos  and  threes.  The  man  at  the  cocoa- 
nut-shy  was  busy ;  the  boat,  its  oars  splashing  wildly,  was 
describing  erratic  circles  in  the  middle  of  the  river.  The 
refreshment  tent  was  crowded.  Dorrington  watched  the 
gyrating  boat  with  some  uneasiness. 

"  I  had  better  see  what  is  going  on  there,"  he  said. 
"  It  doesn't  look  very  safe,  does  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  can't  drown,  poor  dears,"  answered  Mil- 
dred, easily.  "  But  they  will  certainly  have  the  bath  I 
was  suggesting  a  moment  ago  if  they  are  not  careful." 

'"  Aren't  you — coming?  " 

"  I  can't — ^yet.  I  am  expecting  Auntie  Pat.  I'll  come 
later." 

He  left  her  at  the  tiny  gate,  golden  showers  of  labur- 
num blossom  dropping  in  beauteous  benediction  above 
her,  the  long  vista  of  the  garden  sloping  upwards  be- 
hind. Sheaves  of  Madonna  lilies,  waxen  white,  their 
golden  hearts  faint  with  perfume,  stood  in  stately  beauty ; 


198  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

wreaths  of  crimson  rambler,  in  its  first  flush  of  bloom, 
looped  the  blue  sky  with  vivid  colour  on  either  hand. 
And  what  it  cost  him  to  go  was  a  revelation,  almost  a 
blasting  revelation,  of  many  things. 

"  I  must  get  out  of  this,"  he  told  himself,  and  the 
dew  stood  thickly  on  his  forehead  and  his  hands  turned 
cold  as  he  walked.     "  As  a  Christian — as  a  priest!  " 

Yet  he  groaned  inwardly  for  he  was  also — a  man. 

And  for  Lilith,  languidly  helping  Violet  to  bend  bows 
and  mark  successful  shots  in  a  highly  original  archery 
contest,  the  radiance  came  suddenly  back  to  the  morn- 
ing. Neither  did  it  die  again,  for  Dorrington,  having 
once  got  himself  in  hand,  kept  a  tight  grip.  He  rowed 
boats  and  ran  races  and  shot  and  threw  sticks,  and  when 
these  failed  to  interest  and  even  the  delights  of  the  re- 
freshment tent  palled,  human  capacity  being  limited,  he 
led  the  way  into  a  little  wood  near  by,  where  the  bluebells 
stood  in  serried  azure  rows  and  the  bracken  uncurled 
its  tiny  croziers ;  where  squirrels  peeped  and  chattered 
and  an  occasional  nightingale,  throbbing  with  bliss,  fluted 
loud  to  the  summer's  day.  It  happened  to  be  a  pheasant 
preserve,  as  a  couple  of  outraged  keepers  pointed  out  to 
Lady  Mildred  early  in  the  afternoon ;  but  as  that  laughing 
lady  altogether  declined  to  interfere  Dorrington  and  his 
little  flock  roamed,  in  blissful  ignorance  of  the  harm  they 
were  doing,  all  over  it.  And  everywhere  Lilith,  a  Lilith 
faint  with  happiness,  went  with  him.  Violet  soon  tired. 
Her  defection  synchronised  with  the  coming  of  Lady 
Wayland's  chair  into  the  field,  Mr.  Wylford  and  Cyril 
dutifully  carrying  cushions  behind  it,  but  Lilith  hardly 
noticed  her  departure.  Dorrington  needed  her.  It  was 
inevitable  that  he  should.  She  was  quicker  witted  than 
the  rest,  and  tactful  and  tireless,  and  she  showed  none  of 
that  shrinking  from  her  rougher  companions  that  Violet 
could  not  hide.  It  was  natural  that  he  should  look  to  her 
for  help.  His  quick  "  Lilith  will  explain !  "  if  a  point  in 
a  game  were  obscure,  or  "  Oh,  ask  Lilith,  she  can  tell 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  199 

you ! "  when  he  was  beset  on  all  sides  at  once  with  ques- 
tions, was  music  indeed  to  her  ears. 

It  was  Lilith's  one  golden  day,  dawning  in  greyness, 
ending,  alas !  in  storm,  but  as  a  day  peerless,  jewel-like. 
The  passing  years  could  not  filch  it  from  her,  nor  clouding 
memories  destroy  its  charm.  Lilith  had  her  one  golden 
day.     Few  of  us  get  more. 

But  to  recognise  it  for  what  it  was,  her  one  golden 
day,  was  beyond  her. 

To  her  it  was  but  the  first  of  many,  a  glowing  portal 
opening  into  Paradise,  a  foundation,  pathetically  insuffi- 
cient, for  a  Palace  of  Dreams.  Who  was  to  tell  her  that 
the  confidences,  intimate  and  suggestive,  she  had  poured 
into  his  ears  a  few  days  ago,  confidences  that  to  her  mind 
formed  between  them  so  strong  and  subtle  a  bond,  could 
have  been  duplicated,  and  deepened,  by  any  one  of  the 
others?  That  his  kindly  glance  was  cold,  that  his  hand- 
clasp, close  and  lingering,  meant  encouragement  in  ways 
of  worthy  walking,  no  more ;  that,  in  short,  her  one  golden 
day  had  been  simply  food  for  Folly?  The  first  breath 
of  chill  reality  came  at  tea-time.  The  long  strain  had 
exhausted  Dorrington's  reserves  of  resolution.  The  sight 
of  Lady  Mildred,  fair,  cool,  alluring,  dispensing  tea  for 
the  favoured  few  under  the  flickering  shade  of  roses 
trained  about  a  light  screen  of  wrought-iron,  sapped  the 
last  remnants  of  his  strength.  He  had  been  near  her, 
within  sound  of  her  voice,  within  reach  of  her  hand, 
all  day,  and  he  had  let  the  day  slip  by  blank  and  un- 
fruitful. A  sudden  wonder  at  his  own  folly  beset  him. 
The  old,  old  question  "  Cui  bono?"  rose  hot  and  bitter 
in  his  mind.  Well,  the  dregs  were  left  him  of  what 
might  have  been  his  draught  of  joy,  and  in  this  moment 
of  revulsion  he  was  grateful  even  for  the  dregs.  He  had 
a  right  to  them,  since  no  one  could  say  that  he  had  not 
done  his  duty.  He  would  drink,  then,  even  if  the  bottom 
of  the  cup  were  bitterness  indeed.  Lilith,  sitting  shyly 
among  what  her  mother  would  have  called  "  her  betters," 
was  instantly  aware  of  his  utter  forgetfulness.     She  had 


200  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

shaken  hands  very  prettily  with  Lady  Wayland  and  Mr. 
Wylford  and  Cyril,  and  now  sat  beside  a  big,  broad- 
shouldered  man  who,  with  his  knees  well  apart  and  his 
teacup  held  between  them,  was  stirring  his  tea  with  an 
upright  spoon  and  much  unnecessary  energy.  He 
glanced  at  her  with  frank  curiosity  and  said  nothing,  but 
Lilith  was  vaguely  aware  that  it  was  pleasant  to  sit  be- 
side him,  that  there  was  something  attractive  in  the 
unaffected  business-like  way  in  which  he  folded  and  dis- 
posed of  slice  after  slice  of  bread  and  butter.  He  sat 
silent,  his  bright,  observant  eyes  going  from  one  speaker 
to  another  and  his  ears  open,  evidently,  to  all  that  they 
said.  Occasionally  they  spoke  to  him,  in  half-bantering 
allusion  to  opinions  of  his,  evidently  pronounced,  but  to 
which  Lilith  had  no  clue.  Considering  that  he  had  not 
spoken  to  her  it  was  with  an  odd  sense  of  acquaintance- 
ship that  she  turned  to  him,  when  the  bread  and  butter 
was  no  more,  and  said,  "  Won't  you  have  some  cake 
now  ?  " 

He  smiled,  helped  himself  generously,  and  still  said 
nothing.     When  tea  was  over  Lady  Wayland  rose. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  she  said,  with  an  odd  little  laugh, 
"  it  is  time  we  returned  to  our  muttons  ?  " 

"  Not  Norman,"  Mildred  spoke  with  a  touch  of  au- 
thority, "  he  is  tired.  Mr.  Wylford  will  take  his  place 
for  a  little  while,  won't  you,  Mr.  Wylford?" 

"  Now,  that's  too  bad  of  Mildred,"  grumbled  Lady 
Wayland,  as  she  walked  away,  her  hand  on  Henry  Wyl- 
ford's  arm,  Violet  and  Cyril  following  dutifully  behind. 
"  I  know  she  means  mischief." 

The  big  man  whose  name  she  did  not  know  turned 
to  Lilith. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  as  though  continuing  a  conversation, 
"  I  suppose  it  really  is  a  genuine  endeavour  to  bridge 
gulfs.  I'd  like  to  have  a  little  closer  look  at  it.  Let  tis 
go,  too." 

Lilith  hesitated,  aware  of  actual  physical  difficulty 
in  leaving  the  place  where  Norman  Dorrington  was.     But 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  201 

he  lay  back  in  a  long  cane  lounge,  white  and  still,  evi- 
dently accepting  the  half-hour's  rest  his  hostess  had 
almost  peremptorily  claimed  for  him,  and  there  was  about 
Lady  Mildred  so  frank  an  intention  of  being  silent  until 
he  and  she  should  be  alone  that  Lilith  was  suddenly  aware 
of  almost  gross  intrusion.  She  turned  and  walked  down 
the  long  green  ribbon  of  velvet  turf  between  the  Madonna 
lilies  shimmering  in  the  evening  light,  spires  of  delphi- 
nium, tenderly  blue,  rising  mistily  behind  them. 

Silence  fell  as  their  footsteps  died.  Dorrington, 
braced  to  endure  but  lacking  strength  to  run  away,  stared 
straight  before  hirn,  saying  nothing.  Mildred  also  said 
nothing,  her  eyes,  veiled  and  inscrutable,  fixed  before 
her  as  she  deliberately  awaited  the  moment  her  feminine 
intuition  foresaw.  She  was  near  him,  so  near  that  one 
pretty  hand  hung  within  reach  of  his  own.  The  foamy 
frills  of  her  white  dress  touched  his  knee  and  flowed  over 
his  foot.  All  about  her  floated  the  faint,  intangible  per- 
fume that  seems  part  of  the  very  personality  of  a  daintily 
feminine  woman.  Mildred  was  fighting  for  a  definite 
end.  Every  weapon  in  her  armoury  was  sharp  and  ready, 
and  her  attack  was  well-timed.  The  fatigue  of  the  day, 
for  Dorrington,  had  been  considerable,  but  it  had  been  as 
nothing  to  the  stress  of  the  fight  against  his  own  inclina- 
tions. Faint  lines  of  exhaustion  traced  themselves  round 
his  mouth,  perspiration  lay  like  dew  about  his  thin 
temples,  his  hand,  the  hand  that  ached  to  take  her  own 
and  would  not,  lay  on  his  knee  rigidly  clenched.  And 
Mildred,  seeing  nothing,  was  aware  of  all.  She  leant 
forward,  and  threw  all  the  seductive  charm  of  which  she 
was  mistress  into  her  tones. 

"  Norman,  is  it  worth  it  ?  " 

He  started.  The  question,  wicked,  traitorous,  had 
risen  like  a  grinning  devil  in  his  own  mind  a  few  minutes 
ago  and  been  hardly  exorcised.  But  this  open  assault  on 
the  faith  that  was  in  him  rang  in  his  ears  like  a  trumpet 
call. 

"  Can  I  doubt  it?"  he  asked,  and  his  voice  was  resolute 


W2  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

and  low.  "  Can  anyone  doubt  it  who  will  open  his  eyes 
to  truth  at  all?  Look  at  my  girls,  compare  them  with 
others  of  their  own  class  and  mental  development,  others 
whose  one  idea  of  escape  from  sordid  surroundings  is 
to  be  found  in  drink,  whose  highest  conception  of  earthly 
bliss  is  a  night  at  the  Paragon " 

"  Yes,  of  course,  I  see  them — to-day — behaving  like 
something  a  little  higher  than  the  beasts  that  perish. 
But  does  it  persist?  I  couldn't  help  noticing  what  Mr. 
Chisholm  said  at  luncheon  the  other  day.  You  can  show 
the  boys  and  girls — ^but  where  are  the  men  and  women? 
How  many  of  all  that  during  the  last  seven  years  have 
passed  through  your  hands  have  held  their  faith  fast, 
Norman,  and  lived  up  to  it  ?  " 

"  There  are — failures,  of  course,"  Dorrington  ad- 
mitted it  with  a  sense  of  being  unfairly  cornered.  "  One 
does  not  hope  for  more  than  a  percentage  of  genuine 
awakenings.  And  of  those  that  lapse  they  have  at  least 
been  touched — once — with  the  breath  of  the  Spirit  of 
God.  They  must  always  be  different — and  better — for  it. 
If  you  could  once  see  it  as  I  have  seen  it,  passing  almost 
visibly  from  one  to  another  in  a  religious  gathering, 
moving  first  one  and  then  another,  convincing  first  one 
and  then  another  of  the  thinness  of  the  veil " 

Mildred  moved  uneasily.  His  deeply-moved  voice  and 
glowing  eyes  hurt  her. 

"  Oh,  I  have  seen  it,  of  course,"  she  said,  "  the  phe- 
nomenon to  which  you  refer,  but  unfortunately  you  and 
I  explain  it  differently.  I  doubt  if  they  are — the  better 
for  it.  To  me  the  whole  thing  is  a  form  of  spiritual 
dissipation,  as  unhealthy  as,  perhaps  more  unhealthy 
than,  any  other  form  of  dissipation.  Has  it  never  struck 
you,  Norman,  that  the  religion  you  and  those  like  you 
offer  the  world  is  not  quite  the  religion  it  wants?  " 

"  One  does  not  offer  the  world  what  it  wants.  One 
teaches  the  world  to  want  that  which  is  good." 

"  But  is  it  good  ?  " 

"  Could  I  hold  the  office  I  do— and  doubt  it?" 


'      THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  203 

Mildred  was  silent.  The  reply  was  answer  sufficient 
as  far  as  she  was  concerned.  By  and  by  she  spoke 
again,  softly  rocking  herself  to  and  fro. 

"  I  suppose  there  must  be  something  wanting  in  me 
that  makes  me  unable  to — accept  things.  For  I  can't! 
I  marvel,  I  marvel  that  you  can,  that  you,  an  educated, 
reasoning,  intellectual  man,  can  spend  your  life  insisting 
upon  the  actual  truth  of  what  is  to  me  simply  a  beautiful 
fairy  tale.  The  explanation  of  the  raising  of  the  whole 
edifice  of  Christianity  as  we  know  it  to-day  is  so  horribly 
understandable.  What  you  describe  as  the  scheme  of 
redemption,  hanging  as  it  does  on  the  myths  of  the  first 
chapters  of  Genesis! — Norman,  how  can  you  seriously 
spend  your  life " 

"  Am  I  not  proud  so  to  spend  my  life  ?  Are  there 
not  hundreds  of  better  men,  cleverer  men,  so  spending 
their  lives  ?  " 

"How  many  of  them  are  sincere?"  Mildred  leant 
forward  suddenly.  "  How  many  of  them,  if  they  were 
not  bound  by  their  ordination  vows,  their  sense  of  honour, 
the  fact  that  on  their  teaching  dogmas  at  which  their 
intelligence  revolts  depends  their  daily  bread  and  that  of 
their  wives  and  children,  would  come  forward  and  say 
*  Deliver  me  from  the  bondage  of  an  out- worn  creed  '  ?  " 

"  There  might  be — some.  I  trust  they  would  be — 
few." 

"  Take  yourself,  Norman,"  hardly  hearing  his  low 
rejoinder.  "Are  you  never  conscious  of  discrepancy 
between  what  you  say  in  the  pulpit  and  what  you  really 
think?  Can  you  always  stultify  reason  and  simply 
accept  ?  " 

"  Doubt  at  times  attacks  all  believers,"  said  Norman 
quickly.  "  To  Acknowledge  that  is  only  to  concede  that 
the  Devil  is  still  active." 

"The  Devil!"  The  half-breathed  word  was  razor- 
edged  with  scorn.  "  Are  you  to  be  sacrificed — are  we 
to  be  sacrificed,"  suddenly  laying  a  warm, '  white  hand 
on  his  shaking  and  cold  one,  "  to  the  dissemination  of 


204  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

a  conception  of  life  so  false  as  the  one  your  use  of  that 
word  suggests?  Norman,  to  me  your  profession  is 
odious.  As  I  see  things  you  cannot  continue  in  it — and 
remain  a  man.  The  best  of  you  will  atrophy  and  fall 
away.  Ah,  Norman,  to  see  you  the  man  you  might  be, 
the  man  /  could  make  of  you — if  you  would  let  me.  A 
man  who  could  still  do  his  Master's  work,  a  thousand 
times  better  work  than  ever  you  will  do  hampered  by 
mediaeval  trappings  of  which  the  world  has  grown  weary. 
Is  it  nothing  to  you  that  I  love  you,  Norman?  That 
I  would  marry  you  to-morrow,  lay  myself  and  all  I  have 
in  the  world  in  your  hands,  live  all  my  life  in  utter  con- 
tent beside  you,  if  you  were  any  but  that,  to  me,  epitome 
of  everything  preposterous — a  parish  priest !  Give  it  up, 
Norman.  Come  out  from  the  mists  of  the  middle  ages 
and  walk  in  the  light  of  to-day !  " 

Norman  rose,  his  eyes  blazing  in  his  pale  face.  He 
drew  away  from  her  as  though  she  were  something  un- 
clean.    His  low  voice  trembled,  but  his  words  fell  clear. 

"  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan !  " 


XXV 


The  June  dust  blew  in  Calthorpe  Road.  On  the 
pavement  outside  Morley's  the  girls  were  selling  roses, 
not  starveling  hothouse  buds,  but  generous  open-air  roses 
with  solid  sun-kissed  petals  and  sturdy  thorn-set  stems. 
There  were  roses  in  the  two  tall  glasses  on  Lilith's  bed- 
room mantel-piece,  pathetically  suggestive  to  the  little 
London  girl  of  what  summer  might  mean  to  country 
maidens.  But  in  the  black  and  white  drawing-room 
downstairs  the  wax  flowers  under  the  glass  shade  still 
held  their  own.  How  Lilith  hated  that  room,  with  its 
chill  atmosphere,  its  shiny  table,  its  cracked  piano,  its 
brace  of  stuffed  snipe  sitting  on  a  mossy  thorn-branch, 
a  feat  that  the  most  ambitious  living  snipe  ever  hatched 
never  succeeded  in  accomplishing  yet.  The  breakfast- 
room  was,  as  a  rule,  endurable,  speaking  as  it  did  of 
healthy,  homely  occupation ;  but  a  distressful  hint  of  the 
midday  stew,  redolent  of  onions,  hung  about  it  this  warm 
afternoon,  and  had  driven  Lilith  upstairs.  There  she 
sat  at  her  open  bedroom  window,  oppressed  by  that  sense 
of  utter  futility  and  emptiness  that  doth  so  easily  beset 
girlhood  in  its  teens.  Why  had  she  been  bom,  and 
wherefore  ?  Was  not  existence  a  doubtful  good,  and  life 
all  perplexity?  It  was  Thursday  afternoon,  and  as  a 
rule  on  Thursday  afternoon  the  litany  and  reading  at 
St.  Alphege  had  been  a  glowing  interlude  in  the  dreary 
week,  but  this  Thursday  afternoon  Lilith  was  conscious 
of  a  vague  disinclination  to  take  the  long  journey  west- 
ward. It  would  cost  her  eight-pence,  she  told  herself, 
which  was  a  factor  in  her  disinclination,  though  she  had 
cheerfully  spent  many  eight-pences  before  and  never  even 
glanced  at  their  total.  Her  own  apathy  surprised  her. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  result  of  contrast,  contrast  between 

205 


206  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

this  Thursday  and  last.  What  a  day  had  last  Thursday 
been,  what  a  vivid,  memorable,  golden  day.  How  glori- 
ously had  it  attained  its  glowing  noon,  and  how  chil- 
lingly had  it  died  in  disappointment  and  greyness  and 
tears.  It  was  to  Lady  Mildred  she  owed  the  shattering 
of  its  fairy  fabric,  Lady  Mildred  that  she  had  hated 
from  the  first.  How  she  hated  her,  elegant,  beautiful, 
wealthy,  smilingly  civil,  contemptuously  kind,  a  woman 
who,  with  all  that  heart  could  wish  to  satisfy  and  sustain, 
must  still  covet  and  steal.  She  had  everything,  and 
Lilith  nothing  but  one  poor  little  dream.  "  She  might 
have  left  me  that,"  said  Lilith,  her  stormy  eyes,  wistful 
and  far  away,  gazing  out  upon  the  Islington  chimney 
pots. 

That  was  why  she  did  not  want  to  go  to  church  this 
afternoon,  Lilith  told  herself  suddenly.  She  was  afraid 
she  might  see  Lady  Mildred,  Lady  Mildred  who  stood 
to  her  now  for  the  very  embodiment  of  her  own  folly. 
To  be  sure  she  might  see  Violet  also,  and  Violet  would 
ask  her  where  she  was  on  Tuesday  when  the  Com- 
municants' class  was  held,  and  perhaps  take  her  home 
to  tea  and  even  ask  her  to  stay  to  dinner  as  she  had 
before.  Why  had  she  not  thought  of  that  earlier  ?  Lilith 
asked  herself.  It  was  too  late  now.  By  the  time  she 
had  dressed  and  taken  the  long  'bus  ride  and  the  walk 
at  the  end  of  it 

A  long  and  loud  rat-tat,  calmly  assertive  without 
being  violent,  echoed  through  the  house.  Lilith  listened, 
all  a-thrill.  That  was  not  the  tax-collector,  nor  a  travel- 
ler with  tea  or  sewing-machines,  nor  even  Alg'non,  freed 
from  bondage  for  one  afternoon  in  the  week.  It  was  a 
knock  that  a  gentleman  might  give,  a  doctor — or  a 
clergyman ! 

The  sound  of  her  mother's  footsteps  on  the  oil-cloth- 
covered  landing  stayed  her  speculations. 

"  Lilith,"  said  Mrs.  Somers,  her  hand  over  her  labour- 
ing heart,  for  the  stairs  were  long  and  steep,  "  'ere's  a 
gentleman  wants  to  see  you." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  207 

"  A  gentleman !     Who  is  it,  mother  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  he  never  give  his  name.  You'd 
better  come  down,  my  dear.  He  asked  for  you  partic'lar. 
Nay,  you  haven't  time  to  change,  LiHth.  It  doesn't  mat- 
ter, you  look  all  right,  my  girl.  He's  in  the  parlour, 
waiting." 

In  the  parlour,  taking  in  its  details  with  bright, 
amused  eyes,  stood  Cyril — Cyril  in  a  faultlessly  cut  suit 
of  palest  grey,  with  a  tearose-bud  in  his  button-hole,  and 
the  glossiest  of  hats  and  slenderest  of  sticks  held  behind 
him  in  one  exquisitely  gloved  hand.  Anything  more 
utterly  out  of  place  among  the  black  and  white  furniture, 
the  wax  flowers,  and  the  stuffed  snipe  could  hardly  have 
been  imagined.  His  right  hand  was  bare.  He  took 
Lilith's  shy,  schoolgirl  fingers,  and  held  them. 

"  So  this  is  where  you  live,  is  it  ?  "  was  his  greeting. 

Lilith  was  conscious  of  the  sudden  stiffening  of  moral 
muscles.     She  met  his  laughing  eyes  steadily. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  this  is  where  I  live." 

He  was  silent  and  still  his  eyes  laughed,  and  still  he 
held  her  hand,  not  so  tightly  as  to  cause  her  discomfort, 
but  firmly  enough  to  prevent  her  disengaging  her  fingers 
without  an  effort.  Sudden  embarrassment  sent  the  pain- 
ful colour  to  her  face.  "Won't  you  sit  down,  Mr. 
Graeme  ?  " 

"  No,  I  had  rather  stand,"  and  his  fingers  tightened. 

"  Then  will  you  kindly  let  me  ?  "  returned  Lilith,  and 
her  eyes  lit  up. 

"  Certainly,"  releasing  her  fingers,  but  only  slowly. 
"  You  did  that  very  well,  Lilith,"  in  unexplained  approval. 
"  Jove,  but  you  are  a  pretty  girl." 

Lilith  looked  up  at  him  from  the  funereal  depths  of 
the  horsehair-covered  chair,  and  the  crisp  antimacassar 
on  its  back  was  hardly  whiter  than  she.  On  the  evening 
when  she  had  dined  at  Prince's  Gardens,  again  on  the 
day  of  the  picnic  at  Lady  Mildred's,  she  had  been  aware 
of  a  disapproval  of  herself  on  Cyril's  part  that  almost 
touched  antagonism.     And  to-day!     To-day  he  was  all 


«08  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

smiles  and  graciousness  and  easy  cynical  compliment. 
To  Lilith  in  some  unexplained  way  the  change  was 
dreadful. 

"  Have  you  brought  me  a  message  from  Violet  ?  " 
she  asked  presently,  for  the  purpose  of  the  visit,  a  pur- 
pose that  must  exist  somewhere,  was  dark.  His  eyes 
changed,  almost,  Lilith  fancied,  as  though  her  use  of  his 
sister's  Christian  name  had  angered  him.  But  the  easy 
smile  came  back  almost  instantly. 

"  No,  nothing  of  that  sort.     I  came  to  see  you." 

"Did  you!     Why?" 

He  did  not  answer  at  once,  and  his  eyes  travelled 
over  her  slowly  from  head  to  foot.  Something  in  the 
bold  challenge  of  his  look  chilled  her  with  a  vague  sense 
of  horrible,  unexplained  fear. 

"  I'll  call  mother,"  she  said  a  little  breathlessly.  "  I 
would  like  to  introduce  her." 

Graeme  stayed  her  by  a  motion  of  his  hand. 

"  Oh,  surely  that  is — hardly  necessary.  She  opened 
the  door  to  me,  didn't  she?  " 

Lilith  answered  nothing.  The  situation  was  beyond 
her  handling.  Vaguely  she  was  aware  that  his  manner 
was  detestable  and  his  presence  an  insult.  But  the  ex- 
perience that  would  have  shown  her  how  to  alter  the 
one  or  get  rid  of  the  other  is  not  to  be  won  in  seventeen 
short  years.  She  leant  forward,  her  hands  gripped  hard 
on  the  padded  arms  of  her  chair. 

"  Mr.  Graeme,  what  did  you  want  to  see  me  forf  " 

He  sat  down  then,  balancing  his  winking  hat  between 
his  knees. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  he  said,  "  we  are  both  of  us  lonely, 
and  it  seems  a  pity  we  should  both  of  us  be  lonely  apart 
when  we  shouldn't  be  lonely  if  we  were  together.  We 
reached  that  conclusion  once  before,  didn't  we  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Lilith,  adding  desperately,  "  but  you 
were  different  that  day  from  what  you  are  now." 

"  I  had  reason  to  be,"  he  returned  quickly. 

"  I  don't  understand  vou.  Mr.  Graeme." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  209 

"  No,  but  you  will  soon.  I  want  you  to  come  out 
with  me,  Lilith ;  I  have  something  to  show  you." 

Lilith  stood  up  suddenly. 

"  I — I  won't,"  she  said  under  her  breath,  and  the 
childish  phrase  and  the  childish  face  might  well  have 
checked  his  ruthlessness.  "  I  don't  want  to  go  out  with 
you.     I  don't  like  you." 

Graeme  laughed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do,"  he  said  easily.  "  It  must  be  nicer 
to  come  out  with  me  than  to  stay  shut  up  in  a  room  as 
stuffy  as  this.  And,  anyway,  you  would  like  to  see  what 
I've  got  to  show  you,  wouldn't  you?" 

"  No,"  said  Lilith,  and  then,  "  Tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  I — I  won't,"  in  laughing  mimicry.  "  I'll  only  show 
it  you.  But  one  thing  I'll  tell  you,  Lilith,"  with  a  sudden 
change  of  tone,  "  you  are  not  to  come  and  see  Violet 
any  more.     I  won't  have  it." 

"Why?"  asked  Lilith  faintly. 

"  My  dear  child,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  pretend  with  me. 
It's  quite  useless." 

"  I'm  not  pretending.  I  don't  know  what  you  mean. 
I  don't  know  why." 

"  Then  put  your  hat  on  and  I'll  show  you." 

Lilith  went  out  of  the  room  a  little  unsteadily,  for  the 
floor  was  heaving  under  her  feet.  This  must  be  ex- 
plained, and  if  the  only  way  in  which  she  could  attain  an 
explanation  were  by  going  out  with  Mr.  Graeme,  why, 
she  must  go.  Conscious  of  a  shrinking  distaste  for 
which  it  v/as  difficult  to  find  a  reason,  Lilith  slipped  out 
of  her  morning  blouse  and  put  on  the  blue  and  white 
muslin  she  had  worn  so  happily  a  week  ago.  As  she 
struggled  with  the  hooks  down  the  middle  of  her  back 
her  mother  came  in. 

"  Here,  let  me  'elp  you,  my  girl,"  she  said  mildly. 
"  Where  are  you  goine,  Lilith  ?  " 

"  Out  with  Mr.  Graeme,  mother.  He  has  come  for 
me.     It's  Violet  Graeme's  brother." 

The  explanation  sufficed.  These  were  Lilith's  "  fine 
14 


210  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

friends,"  with  whom,  Mrs.  Somers  felt,  she  had  nothing 
to  do.  It  did  not  even  occur  to  her  to  ask  to  be  "  made 
acqwent  "  with  the  gentleman  downstairs.  Cyril's  brown 
eyes  warmed  as  Lilith  went  in.  "  Jove,  but  you  are 
a  pretty  girl,"  he  said  again. 

Lilith  frowned.  Never  had  she  imagined  until  now 
the  poison  that  may  lurk  in  a  compliment. 

"  We'll  have  a  cab,  shall  we  ?  "  he  went  on.  "  You 
like  riding  in  a  hansom,  don't  you,  Lilith  ?  " 

Still  Lilith  did  not  answer.  All  the  time  they  waited, 
for  hansoms  are  scarce  in  Canonbury  and  the  shrill 
double-whistle  of  his  cab-call  rang  out  more  than  once, 
she  did  not  speak.  She  got  in,  coldly  conscious  of  her 
mother  and  Jane  watching  from  the  basement  window 
and  Emily  peeping  through  the  bedroom  blind  upstairs. 
By  and  by  her  silence  irked  him.  He  laid  a  light  finger 
under  her  chin  and  tilted  her  face  upwards.  "  You 
aren't  so  pretty  when  you  sulk,"  he  said. 

Lilith  jerked  her  face  away  and  he  felt  her  tremble. 

"  Where  are  we  going,  Mr.  Graeme  ?  "  she  demanded, 
and  this  time  he  felt  that  she  meant  to  be  answered. 

"  To  Burlington  House,"  he  replied  with  a  mock  little 
bow.  "  You  needn't  be  frightened,  my  dear.  Nothing 
could  well  be  more  respectable  than  our  destination." 

Lilith  was  silenced  though  only  half  satisfied.  "  Bur- 
lington House "  sounded  familiar,  but  her  ideas  with 
regard  to  it  were  vague.  The  cab  drew  up  at  a  handsome 
portal.  Many  ladies,  all  carrying  little  books,  were 
passing  in  and  out.  The  hand  in  the  white  cotton  glove 
she  gave  him  as  he  helped  her  out  of  the  cab  still  trembled, 
but  her  eyes  were  no  longer  frosty  and  frightened. 

When  the  pictures  surrounded  her  she  turned  to 
him  and  smiled.  It  had  been  a  mistake,  after  all,  to  think 
him  different,  even  alarming.  He  had  simply  planned 
an  afternoon's  pleasure  for  her,  as  Violet  herself  might 
have  done.  The  relief  in  her  face,  the  glowing  gratitude 
in  her  look  touched,  for  the  moment,  even  him. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  211 

"  It's  the  Royal  Academy,  isn't  it  ?  "  she  asked  shyly. 
"  I  have  often  wanted  to  come,  but  there  was  never  any- 
one to  come  with  me." 

"  I  thought  you  might  be  interested,"  he  said  slowly. 
"  You  will  be  presently." 

"  Shall  I  ?  "  returned  Lilith  brightly. 

He  led  her  on,  lingering  when  her  delighted  eyes  held 
her  thrall,  listening  with  a  kind  of  cynical  indulgence  to 
her  schoolgirl  criticisms,  but  always  steadily  making  his 
way  in  one  direction.  In  the  third  room  they  entered 
the  people  were  all  moving  one  way ;  it  was  after  four 
o'clock,  and  the  claims  of  the  tea-room  imperative.  The 
corner  in  which  he  brought  her  to  a  standstill  was  empty 
but  for  themselves.  Opposite  her,  well  on  the  line,  hung 
a  bold  canvas  glowing  with  colour.  It  represented  the 
interior  of  a  tent,  half-hidden  in  the  shadows  of  which 
stood  a  mailed  warrior,  dark-faced,  virile  and  glad.  The 
background  was  indistinct  and  dim.  All  the  lights  in 
his  picture  the  artist  had  concentrated  on  the  central 
figure,  the  figure  of  a  girl  half-reclining  on  a  tawny  lion 
skin,  her  limbs  gleaming,  naked  and  beautiful,  through 
a  film  of  drapery  so  light  that  it  would  have  been  better 
away,  her  hand  extended  in  ecstatic  welcome,  her  face 
raised  in  adoring  love.  The  highly  lighted  figure,  de- 
liciously  round,  adorably  young,  gave  Lilith  a  shock. 
There  was  something  in  the  ecstasy  of  the  face,  in  the 
abandonment  of  the  pose,  that  startled  the  fine  reticence 
of  her  youth.  Why,  the  question  rose  in  her  mind 
weighty  with  vague  distress,  why  should  Cyril  Graeme 
have  brought  her  with  insistence  to  this  place  only  to 
show  her — that? 

"  It's — it's  very  pretty,"  she  said  presently,  her  colour 
rising  distressfully. 

"  Jove,  but  you  are  clever,"  returned  Cyril  laughing. 

Lilith  looked  up  at  him,  arrested  indeed  at  something 
in  his  tone. 

"  Why — what ?  "  she  asked  uncertainly. 


212  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"Lilith,  who  u  it?" 

Even  then,  amazing-  as  it  seemed  to  her  afterwards, 
she  did  not  understand.  It  was  only  as  details  leapt  to 
her  notice,  the  long-necked  blue  jar  among  the  shadows, 
the  spray  of  deutzia  in  the  girl's  hand,  the  folds  of  the 
lion  skin,  carelessly  flung,  its  golden  lights  and  dusky 
shadows  making  a  background  warm  and  rich  to  the  ail- 
insufficiently  veiled  beauty  of  what  it  held,  that  an  idea, 
scorching  as  flame,  cruel  as  fire,  sprang  to  life  in  her 
brain,  clutching  her  heart,  throttling  her  breathing.  She 
bent  closer,  seeking  dreadful  certainty — and  it  was  there. 
The  face  was  her  own  face,  tint  for  tint,  line  for  line, 
feature  for  feature.  A  sense  of  betrayal,  outrage,  afflicted 
her.  She  drew  back  as  she  would  have  drawn  back 
from  something  threatening  and  unclean. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  in  a  gasping  whisper.  "  Oh!  How 
could  he  ?  " 

"  You  don't  deny  it,  then."  Cyril's  eyes,  bright  with 
half-contemptuous  amusement,  studied  her  curiously. 
"  Not  that  it  would  be  much  use  if  you  did,  because  it's 
you,  my  dear." 

Deny  it !  The  girl  had  neither  words  nor  wish. 
Memory  overwhelmed  her,  sweet  and  stainless  memory, 
a  memory  that  had  been  turned,  blackest  of  treacheries, 
to  this.  That  he,  he !  should  have  done  this  thing.  The 
bruised  wonder  of  it  dulled  her  ears,  so  that  she  heard 
only  dimly  what  Cyril  was  saying. 

"  So  now  you  know  why  I  think  it  would  be  better, 
on  the  whole,  to  let  the  friendship  between  you  and  Violet 
die  a  natural  death.  It's  all  ver\'  well  for  you  and  me 
to  be  chummy,  you  know ;  we  are  going  to  see  a  good 
deal  more  of  one  another,  aren't  we?  But  a  fellow 
doesn't  care  for  his  sister  to  choose  as  a  friend  a  girl 
who  does  that  sort  of  thing." 

"What  sort  of  thing?" 

Cyril's  eyes  grew  sombre. 

"  Are  you  going  to  deny  it  after  all  ?  " 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  213 

"  To  deny  what?     What  are  you  thinking?  " 

"  Thinking !     Oh,  come,  Lilith." 

"  Mr.  Graeme,  what  are  you  thinking?  " 

For  a  moment  Cyril  looked  blankly  surprised.  Then 
he  laughed,  a  laugh  cynical  and  curt  and  low,  heavy 
with  insult.  He  slipped  a  bold  arm  round  the  girl's  waist 
and  drew  her  down  beside  him  on  a  seat.  Lilith  wrenched 
herself  free  and  sprang  up. 

"  Go  away,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  shook  with 
pathetically  childish  fury.  "  Go  away,  I  hate  you.  I 
have  always  hated  you.  You  have  never  been  nice  to 
me !  Yes,  you  were,  once.  The  day  you  took  me  home 
in  a  cab,  but  never  since." 

"  No,  because  I  always  suspected,  and  now  I  know. 
But  if  you  think  you  are  done  with  me,  Lilith,"  he  was 
standing  too,  and  his  eyes  burnt  hard  and  bright  as  he 
looked  down  at  her,  "  if  you  think  I  am  going  to  be 
coolly  dismissed  in  this  way,  well,  you're  wrong.  I  know 
too  much.  You  see  it  yourself,  don't  you?  It  wouldn't 
be  pleasant  for  you  if  I  brought  Lady  Wayland  and 
Violet  and  that  precious  young  prig  of  a  clergyman  cousin 
of  mine  to  look  at  this.  No !  So  you're  going  to  be 
nice  to  me,  Lilith ;  you  had  better,  hadn't  you  ?  " 

Lilith's  eyes  went  past  him.  A  man  had  come 
through  the  arch  from  the  next  room,  a  square-shoul- 
dered, thick-set  man  with  a  clean-shaven  face  and  a  shock 
of  black  hair.  He  was  walking  briskly,  his  deep-set  eyes 
moving  with  alertness  from  canvas  to  canvas,  evidently 
on  a  definite  quest.  Before  Cyril  could  stay  her,  with  a 
little  rush  Lilith  had  crossed  the  empty  room  to  his  side. 

"  Mr.  Chisholm,  oh,  Mr.  Chisholm !  "  she  said. 

Chrisholm  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  held  her  firmly. 

"Hey!  Hello!  What's  all  this ?"  he  inquired,  for 
the  rest  of  what  Lilith  would  have  said  was  lost  in  a 
storm  of  silent  sobbing.  Graeme  walked  over,  whitely 
embarrassed. 

"  We  have  quarrelled,"  he  said  slowly.     "  Lilith,  don't 


214?  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

be  silly,"  in  a  furious  undertone.  "  Come  along,  I'll 
take  you  home."  But  Lilith's  passionate  dissent  needed 
no  words  for  its  expression.  Chisholm's  hold  on  her 
arm  tightened. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  his  glance  moving  swiftly  from 
one  to  the  other,  "  perhaps  she  would  rather  I  took  her 
home." 


XXVI 


It  was  the  Monday  afternoon  in  the  next  week,  and 
in  the  pretty  drawing-room  at  27  Prince's  Gardens 
Violet  sat  alone.  It  had  required  some  little  finesse  to 
evade  the  many  social  calls  upon  her  time,  but  at  last  it 
seemed  as  though  she  really  had  succeeded  in  securing  an 
afternoon  of  solitude,  and  she  sighed  with  relief  as  she 
rested  in  the  blessed  quiet  and  gave  her  order  for  the 
afternoon. 

"  If  Mr.  Wylford  calls,  Rigsworth,  I  am  at  home. 
I  don't  want  to  see  anyone  else." 

"  Very  well,  ma'am,"  agreed  Rigsworth,  the  elderly 
butler,  and  his  smile  was  fatherly  and  his  eyes  cordial. 
The  Countess's  wishes  were  well  understood  and  entirely 
approved  by  her  household. 

Some  half-hour  later  Violet's  colour  deepened  a  little, 
a  man's  foot  was  on  the  stairs.  But  as  it  came  slowly 
up  the  girl's  expression  changed.  As  a  rule  Rigsworth 
was  entirely  to  be  depended  on,  but  this  afternoon  he  had 
failed  her,  for  that  was  not  Wylford's  footfall.  She  leant 
forward,  more  than  a  little  disturbed,  but  when  the  door 
opened  her  face  cleared. 

"  Norman,"  she  said  cordially,  "  I  wondered  who  it 
could  be,  but  I  never  thought  of  you." 

"  I  had  an  afternoon  to  spare,"  he  answered,  and  sat 
down  beside  her. 

It  struck  Violet  instantly  that  he  spoke  with  a  touch 
of  constraint,  that  there  was  something  unusual  in  his 
manner.  She  glanced  mentally  at  one  or  two  possibilities 
that  he  might  have  found  disturbing,  and  looked  up,  her 
eyes  soft  with  ready  sympathy. 

"  And  so  you  came  to  see  me  ?  I'm  very  glad  you 
did.    I'm  always  glad  to  see  you,"  her  assurance  a  little 

215 


216  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

more  emphatic  that  this  afternoon  she  had  to  convince 
herself  also.  "  Is  there  anything  the  matter,  Norman  ? 
You  look  as  if  you  had  been  ill." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  haven't  been  ill.  Only  a  little  troubled." 
He  shuddered  mentally  as  he  glanced  back  at  the  week 
he  had  just  lived  through.  It  was  not  surprising  that  it 
had  left  its  mark  upon  his  face.  "  Life,  the  life  of  a 
parish  priest,  isn't  an  easy  one." 

"  It's  a  very  noble  one,"  said  Violet  warmly. 

He  smiled,  a  little  stiffly,  as  though  lately  the  muscles 
of  his  face  had  been  unaccustomed  to  smiling,  but  the 
remark  thawed  him.  His  look  was  more  natural,  his 
manner  less  constrained.  Violet  felt  suddenly  sorry  for 
him.  His  work,  she  knew,  was  arduous  and  often  dis- 
appointing. Had  failure  in  some  direction  again  been 
the  only  fruit  of  his  efforts?  A  recollection  that  might 
perhaps  be  apposite  occurred  to  her. 

"  Where  is  Lilith  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  haven't  seen  her 
lately.     Is  she  ill?" 

"  I  don't  know."  Norman's  arrested  look  conveyed  to 
her  that  Lilith  had  not  been  in  his  mind.  "  Now  I  remem- 
ber I  didn't  see  her  on  Sunday,  either  in  church  or  after- 
wards." 

"  And  she  wasn't  at  evensong  last  Thursday,  nor  at 
the  Communicants'  class  on  Tuesday  night." 

"  I  must  call,"  said  Dorrington,  not  as  though  the 
prospect  were  a  pleasant  one,  "  the  girl  may  be  ill.  But 
I  didn't  come  to  talk  about  Lilith,  Violet.  I  came  to  talk 
about  you." 

"  Me ! "  echoed  Violet  with  a  touch  of  apprehension, 
though  her  conscience  was  certainly  void  of  offence. 

"  And  myself,"  added  Dorrington. 

Violet  looked  quickly  at  him.  They  were  cousins, 
of  course,  but  beyond  the  cousinly  bond  there  seemed 
nothing  to  connect  them,  even  as  subjects  for  con- 
versation. 

"  Did  you  ?     Norman,  is  there  anything  wrong  ?  " 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  217 

"  Wrong !  No,  nothing.  What  should  there  be 
wrong?    What  makes  you  think " 

"  It  was  your  manner,"  with  a  trace  of  relief.  "  I 
thought  there  must  be." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  am  not  quite  myself,  perhaps.  You  will 
hardly  wonder  at  it  when  I  have  said  what  I  came  to  say. 
I  have  been  thinking — very  seriously — about  myself  and 
— you,  Violet.  We  have  always  been  peculiarly  sympa- 
thetic, haven't  we  ? " 

"  We  have  always  been  very  good  friends,"  agreed 
Violet  soberly.  "  And  certainly,"  with  a  little  more 
warmth,  "  we  have,  even  outside  the  fact  that  we  are 
cousins,  many  points  on  which  we  feel  alike." 

"  So  that  if  circumstances  were  to  draw  us  closer 
together  we  should  find  one  another  companionable,  we 
should  have  many  things  in  common." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Violet,  a  touch  of  wonder  in  her  voice, 
"  I  suppose  we  should.  But  I  do  not  see  how  circum- 
stances can  draw  us  any  closer  together,  unless,"  with 
a  twinkle  in  her  eye,  "  you  want  me  to  come  and  house- 
keep  for  you  at  the  Clergy-house.  And  I  wouldn't  advise 
that,  you  know,"  with  grave  banter.  "  Mrs.  Clayton  may 
be  bad,  but  I  should  be  infinitely  worse." 

"  Oh,  but  I  assure  you  I  wasn't  thinking  of  it.'* 
Violet  sighed ;  Norman's  inability  to  see  when  she  was 
joking  was  to  her  one  of  his  most  trying  peculiarities. 
"  It  wouldn't  do,  Violet ;  you  are  much  too  young.  But 
I  have  thought  of  something  else.  Something  that  seems 
to  me  not  only  quite  posible,  but,  for  many  reasons,  very 
desirable.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Violet,  I  came  to-day  to 
ask  you  if  you  would  marry  me." 

Violet  sat  straight  up  in  her  surprise.  She  was  not 
altogether  inexperienced  in  the  matter  and  manner  of  a 
man's  proposals,  but  this  struck  her  as  the  very  oddest 
that  Imagination's  wildest  freak  could  ever  have 
suggested. 

"  Marry !  "  she  echoed  blankly,  "  you  thought  that  you 
and  I  might  marry!" 


218  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  Why  shouldn't  we  ?  '*  He  spoke  more  easily  now 
that  the  ice  was  broken.  "  We  are  utterly  and  entirely  in 
sympathy  with  one  another.  We  hold  the  same  beliefs, 
we  strive  after  the  same  ideals,  we  work  for  the  same  ends. 
I  have  prayed  about  it,  Violet,  prayed  before  the  altar, 
earnestly  and  long,  that  I  might  be  shown  my  way.  And 
suddenly  I  was  shown — shown  that  nowhere,  nowhere 
could  I  find  a  more  ideal  wife  for  a  man  in  my  position 
than  you  would  be.  I  wonder  I  haven't  seen  it  before ;  I 
wonder  that  I  haven't.  When  I  think  of  the  use  you 
could  be  to  me,  when  I  consider  the  field  that  is  open  to 
you,  the  work  that  is  calling  you,  the  claims,  the  unes- 
capable  claims  that,  if  your  religion  means  anything  at 
all,  must  be  making  themselves  felt  by  you " 

"  Norman,"  she  interrupted,  "  is  that  all  there  is  to 
be  considered  ?  " 

He  regarded  her  sombrely,  pressing  his  rather  long 
chin  on  the  back  of  his  fine,  thin  hand. 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  the  personal  equation,"  he  said 
presently,  "  but  surely  the  considerations  that  I  have  put 
first  come  first.  And  even  as  far  as  personal  feeling  is 
concerned  you  and  I  are  very  fond  of  one  another.  We 
always  have  been." 

"  And  you  think  that  is  a  sufficient  foundation  for 
marriage  ?  " 

"  No,  Violet,  not  if  that  were  all — or  even  most.  But 
I  know  how  the  call  of  duty  appeals  to  you.  I  have  seen 
you  sacrifice  yourself,  before  now,  for  what  you  think 
right." 

"  Are  you  sacrificing  yourself  for  what  you  think 
right?" 

"  No.  How  can  you  imagine  such  a  thing !  I  am 
doing  the  only  thing  that  is  left  for  me  to  do  if " 

"If  what?" 

"  If  I  am  to  continue  my  work  here  at  all." 

Violet  twisted  her  hands  together,  and  for  a  moment 
said  nothing.  A  man,  she  reminded  herself,  is  supposed 
to  pay  a  woman  the  highest  compliment  in  his  power 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  219 

when  he  asks  her  to  be  his  wife,  but  this  proposal  had 
roused  within  her  indignation  so  profound,  had  moved 
her  to  anger  so  deep,  that  she  realised  her  own  sensations 
with  dismay.  But  above  both  indignation  and  anger  she 
was  aware  of  one  paramount  necessity.  She  rose, 
trembling  exceedingly. 

"  Norman,"  she  said,  "  I — I  don't  want  to  quarrel 
with  you,  but  I  am  afraid  if  you  say  any  more  I  shall. 
If  you  had  asked  me  anything  else,  anything  else  in  all 
the  world,  I  shouldn't  have  felt  as  I  do.  But  to  suggest 
that  we  should — marry." 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't.  I  didn't  expect  you  to 
take  it  like  this,  Violet." 

"  How  did  you  expect  me  to  take  it?  " 

"  I  have  given  you  no  cause  for  offence.  I  come  to 
you  with  a  perfectly  honourable  proposal " 

"  Norman,  if  you  would  please  go."  She  turned  away 
from  him  in  a  whirl  of  emotion  whose  sources  were 
vague,  but  it  was  sufficient  to  blind  her  to  his  presence 
and  deafen  her  to  his  going.  She  realised,  suddenly,  that 
she  was  alone,  and  might  cry  if  she  liked.  But  the  tears 
came  singly,  large  and  bitter  drops  that  should  wash 
away  some  unexplained  stain. 

"How  dare  he!  How  dare  he?"  she  asked  herself 
again. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Violet?  " 

She  turned,  the  tears  still  wet  upon  her  cheeks.  It 
was  Wylford,  his  face  full  of  concerned  inquiry.  Violet 
laughed  a  little  bitterly. 

"  Norman  has  just  asked  me  to  marry  him,"  she  said. 

Wylford  came  over  to  her  side  and  stood,  his  hands 
twisted  hard  together  behind  his  back. 

"  Marry  him !    But  he  has  no  reason  to  suppose " 

"  That  I  care  for  him  ?  He  knows  I  don't.  And  he 
doesn't  even  pretend  to  care  for  me  at  all.  He  seems  to 
regard  it,  for  some  reason  or  other  that  I  don't  quite 
understand,  as  an  altogether  fitting  arrangement,  and  to 
see  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  fall  in  with  it.    I  suppose 


««0  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

he  has  the  right  to  ask  me  to  marry  him  if  he  chooses. 
As  he  said  himself,  it  was  a  perfectly  honourable 
proposal." 

"  I  suppose  he  thinks,"  put  in  Wylford  hoarsely, 
"  that  the  sacrament  excuses  everything-." 

"  I  have  always  understood,"  Violet  went  on,  a  rush 
of  indignant  feeling  moving  her  to  a  most  unusual  open- 
ness of  speech,  "  that  a  proposal  of  marriage  is  an  honour. 
But  with  regard  to  this  of  Norman's  I  feel  as  if  it  were 
an  insult." 

"  It  is." 

Violet  leant  against  the  window-frame  and  stared 
hard  at  the  pink  geraniums  and  white  marguerites  on 
the  balcony.  By  some  mental  process  too  subtle  for 
her  to  understand,  her  feeling  of  indignant  anger  against 
Dorrington  had  suddenly  transferred  itself  to  Wylford. 
He  should  have  come  between  her  and  such  an  experience 
as  this.  She  had  a  right,  vague  but  indisputable,  to 
expect  it  of  him.  Yet  here  he  stood,  as  much  disturbed 
and  even  more  angry  than  she  was  herself,  saying  noth- 
ing, doing  nothing.  The  sense  of  betrayal,  of  his  having 
failed  her,  for  some  inexplicable  reason,  when  she  needed 
him  most,  was  bitter.  Violet  sat  down,  took  a  pamphlet 
from  the  table  and  studied  the  title-page  with  unseeing 
eyes. 

"  I  cannot  stay  here,"  she  said,  "  for  I  will  not  see 
Norman  again  until  I  have  had  time  to  forget  a  little.  I 
don't  know,  quite,  why  I  am  so  angry." 

She  raised  soft  eyes  full  of  troubled  bewilderment 
to  Wylford's  as  she  spoke,  and  he  met  them  sombrely. 
Poor  little  blind,  feminine  thing,  trying  so  hard  to  under- 
stand truths  deliberately  distorted,  to  explain  to  itself 
impulses  and  instincts  intentionally  deflected  and  blurred. 
If  he  might  have  taken  her  into  his  arms  then  and  there 
and  explained  her,  between  kisses,  to  herself ! — as  he 
might  have  done,  as  he  would  have  done  but  for  the 
barriers,  intangible  but  to  his  thinking  impassable,  that 
stood  between! 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  221 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  shall  go  to  Cumberland.  Grannie  will  be  vexed, 
of  course,  she  always  is,  but  she  will  not  wonder.  She 
knows  I  want  to  go." 

"  To  Cumberland.    To  Rhona  and  David." 

"  Grannie  has  been  talking  to  you." 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh,"  said  Voilet,  dropping  her  face  in  her  hands, 
"I  wish  I  had  never,  never  come  away." 

Norman  got  back  to  the  Clergy-house  conscious  of 
relief  that  he  felt  was  indecent.  He  had  taken  a  step 
his  conscience  had  forced  upon  him,  and  the  will — or 
the  wilfulness — of  another  had  rendered  it  of  no  avail. 
There  was  about  him  none  of  the  depression  of  the 
rejected  suitor;  he  was  conscious  of  an  inclination  to 
whistle  and  walk  jauntily.  As  he  pushed  open  the  door 
of  the  little  common  room  a  faint  breath  of  perfume  sent 
a  sudden  mist  to  his  brain,  the  soft  rustle  of  feminine 
garments  sounded  like  thunder  in  his  ears.  He  stood 
rigid,  every  muscle  braced  as  though  to  face  a  physical 
shock.  Lady  Mildred  rose,  graceful,  smiling,  entirely  at 
ease,  from  the  hard  "  Windsor  "  chair. 

"  I've  been  slumming,"  she  announced  gaily.  "  Gladys 
and  Ivy  Christine  really  were  too  delicious.  I  have  been 
to  see  them  both." 

"  And  did  you  get  on?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  me,  yes,  we  are  capital  friends.  I  had 
tea  with  them.  They  are  coming  to  spend  a  Sunday 
with  me  soon." 

"  Then  I  can't  offer  you  anything  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can,"  with  a  little  laugh.  "  Mrs. 
Clayton's  tea  may  leave  something  to  be  desired,  but  it  is 
better  than  Ivy  Christine's," 

He  rang  the  bell  and  asked  for  the  tea,  groaning  in 
spirit  as  he  did  so.  What  the  next  hour  was  likely  to  be 
for  Norman  Dorrington  only  Norman  Dorrington  knew. 
Desperately  he  plunged  into  details  of  his  work,  and 
Mildred  sat  and  listened,  studying  him  meanwhile,  with 


222  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

long,  long  looks  from  soft,  bright  eyes.  She  was  very 
evidently  not  listening  to  anything  he  said,  her  thoughts 
being  entirely  and  frankly  occupied  with  quite  other 
matters.  She  took  her  hat  off  and  threw  it  on  a  chair, 
and  then,  looking  round  for  the  mirror  that  was  not 
there,  put  her  hair  into  place  with  pretty  feminine  pats 
and  touches  not  as  unconscious  as  they  looked.  To 
Dorrington  they  were  exquisite  in  their  subtle  suggestion 
of  intimacy.  In  the  end  he  stammered  and  stopped.  Mrs. 
Clayton  and  the  tea-tray  broke  a  throbbing  silence. 
Never  was  tea-tray  more  welcome. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  can't  eat  the  bread  and  butter,"  he 
said  with  anxious  hospitality ;  "  as  a  matter  of  fact  it's 
margarine.  We  always  have  it;  it's  so  much  cheaper. 
Of  course,  if  I  had  known  you  were  coming " 

"  But  you  didn't  expect  me,  did  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  You  never  expected  me  to  come  any  more,  did 
you  ?  "  in  softest  assertion. 

"  No."  The  blunt  monosyllable  was  all  he  could 
compass. 

"  I  don't  wonder."  Mildred's  mouth  curled  into  a 
tiny  smile,  but  her  eyes  were  gentle.  "  I  don't  see  how 
3'ou  could  expect  it.  You  were  very  rude  to  me  the  last 
time  I  saw  you,  Norman,  abominably,  deliciously  rude." 

"  I  know,"  agreed  Norman  hoarsely. 

"  And  the  funny  thing  is,"  Mildred  went  on,  resting 
her  chin  on  her  curled  up  hand  and  surveying  him 
curiously,  "  that  I'm  not  in  the  least  offended  about  it. 
I'm  not  even  going  to  ask  you  to  apologise." 

"  No,"  said  Norman  bitterly,  "  because  to  you  it 
means  so  little.  But  I  did  something  this  afternoon  that 
I  think  you  would  find  more  difficult  to  forgive." 

"Did  yon?    What  was  it?" 

"  I  asked  Violet  to  marry  me." 

There  was  a  moment's  profound  silence.  Then  Lady 
Mildred  laughed,  a  laugh  that  cut  across  the  stillness  like 
steel. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  223 

"  Poor  Violet !    What  did  she  say  ?  " 

Norman  answered  nothing.  He  rose  and  went  over 
to  the  mantel-piece,  leaning  his  elbows  on  it  and  hiding 
his  face  in  his  hands. 

"  She  refused  you,  of  course,"  Lady  Mildred  went 
on  with  a  touch  of  scorn.  "  Violet  is  a  woman  to  her 
fingertips,  and  she  knows  why  you  asked  her  to  marry 
you  quite  as  well  as  I  do.  Norman,  why  are  you  so 
determined  to  put  me  out  of  your  life?  " 

He  answered  nothing  and  he  did  not  move.  Lady 
Mildred  rose  and  went  over  to  him. 

"  Because  I  won't  he"  she  said  in  a  curious  sup- 
pressed whisper.  "  I  wouldn't  be  even  if  Violet  were 
your  wife.  Have  /  no  rights  ?  Am  I  not  to  be  considered 
at  all  ?  "  She  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  drew 
nearer  to  him.  The  fragrance  of  her  hair  and  dress  was 
in  his  nostrils,  the  rounded  grace  of  her,  alluring,  inviting, 
within  reach  of  his  hand.  It  was  too  much.  With  a 
half-suppressed  cry  he  took  her  in  his  aching  arms  and 
held  her  as  though  he  would  never  let  her  go  again. 
How  long  they  stood  so  neither  of  them  knew.  Mildred 
spoke,  and  woke  him  to  his  suffering. 

"  Now,  you  must  marry  me,"  she  said,  with  tender 
triumph  that  had  just  a  touch  of  gaily  malicious  satis- 
faction behind  it.     "  You  can't  draw  back  now." 

Suddenly,  almost  roughly,  he  put  her  from  him.  "  I 
can  only  marry  you,  Mildred,  by  being  false  to  every  ideal 
life  holds,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "  and  God  helping  me,  I 
never  will." 

That  night  as  Dorrington  and  his  vicar  sat  one  on 
either  side  of  the  dying  fire,  the  vicar  enjoying  his  one 
luxury,  a  pipe,  his  curate  wrestling  still  with  phantom 
happiness,  Dorrington  looked  up  from  his  absorbed  study 
of  the  coals. 

"  I  think  I  shall  take  the  vows,"  he  said. 

"  What  vows  ?  "  said  the  vicar  sharply. 

"  Oh,  the  usual  thing.    Celibacy,  I  mean."    The  vicar 


224  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

looked  shrewdly  at  him.  There  were  two  others,  but 
they  evidently  counted  for  little, 

"  Don't,"  he  said  presently,  and  his  voice  was  em- 
phatic. "  Young  fellows  do  that  before  they  really 
understand  what  it  is  they  are  doing,  and  they  live  to 
repent  it." 

"  You  are  fifty,"  returned  Dorrington,  "  and  you  have 
been  celibate  all  your  life." 

"  From  choice.  I've  always  known  I  could  marry  in 
a  month  if  I  chose." 

"  But  you  haven't  chosen.  If  you  don't  repent,  why 
should  I  ? " 

"  Because  I  am  I  and  you  are  you.  You  don't  do  it 
with  my  consent,  Dorrington,"  a  touch  of  excitement 
showing  in  his  manner.  "  Keep  celibate  if  you  choose, 
but  don't  bind  yourself.  I've  seen  young  fellows  bind 
themselves  before,  as  I  told  you,  and  it's  Hell." 

Silence  fell.  The  vicar  studied  the  figure  in  the 
shabby  black  cassock,  so  slender  and  so  still,  with  care- 
worn, kindly  eyes.     Presently  he  spoke. 

"  I  don't  know  what  Tait  is  going  to  do,"  he  said. 
"  He  sails  for  China  on  the  twentieth.  Rylands  can't 
go,  he's  down  with  typhoid.  And  his  passage  is  paid, 
and  his  outfit  bought  and  everything." 

Dorrington  looked  up. 

"  Does  he  want  someone  to  take  his  place  ?  " 

"  He's  at  his  wits'  end." 

"  Then  I'll  go,"  he  said. 


XXVII 


"  If  she'd  stick  to  one  I'd  say  nothing,"  said  poor 
Mrs.  Somers,  with  tears.  "  But  to  go  out  with  one  and 
come  'ome  with  another." 

It  was  Thursday  night,  the  night  of  that  Thursday 
on  which  Lihth's  eyes  had  been  seared  with  the  sight  of 
her  own  pictured  presentment  on  the  walls  of  the  Royal 
Academy.  Morley's  was  shut  on  Thursday.  For  a  few 
of  the  daylight  hours  Algernon  might  breathe  an  atmos- 
phere unimpregnated  with  the  odours  of  cheese  and 
bacon,  and  to-night,  his  hand  still  in  a  sling,  he  lay  list- 
lessly in  the  big  basket  chair  by  the  breakfast-room  fire, 
too  dispirited  to  care  for  any  of  the  usual  distractions 
offered  by  Thursday  night.  In  vain  had  Jane  suggested 
to  him  as  a  mental  restorative  the  debate  at  the  Way 
Street  Chapel  on  the  rival  merits  of  Byron  and  Browning 
as  poets,  or  Em'ly  dangled  before  his  eyes  the  more  lurid 
delights  of  the  whist-drive  at  the  Institute.  Whilst 
Lilith  was  in  the  house,  shut  up  in  her  bedroom  after  a 
stormy  interview  with  her  entire  family,  no  debate  could 
distract  or  whist-drive  delight  him. 

"  'Ere,  you  let  me  a-be,"  he  had  counselled  Em'ly, 
darkly.  "  No,  there  isn't  anything  the  matter — ^but  if 
you  don't  let  me  alone  there  jolly  soon  will  be."  After 
which  Mrs.  Somers  had  resumed  her  tearful  descantings 
on  Lilith's  enormities  and  the  subject  had  entirely 
absorbed  him,  even  before  one  remark  of  hers  woke  him 
to  vivid,  quivering  life. 

"  I  wish  she  could  'ave  taken  to  Algernon,  that  I  do. 
Everything  would  'a  bin  right — ef  only  she  could  'ave 
taken  to  Alg'non." 

"  Well,  mother,"  returned  Jane,  "  you  spoilt  that,  you 
know,  you  and  father.    If  you'd  never  sent  her  to  school 

Z5  225 


«26  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

and  educated  her  above  her  station  it  would  ha'  been 
different.  Things  that  are  good  enough  for  me  and 
Em'ly  would  ha'  been  good  enough  for  her." 

Tears,  the  slow,  painful  tears  of  middle  life,  gathered 
slowly  on  Mrs.  Somers'  eyelids  and  fell.  It  is  bitter  to 
see  one's  efforts  for  the  good  of  another  recoil  upon  one's 
own  head  and  destroy  one's  own  dearest  wishes. 

"  I  did  it  fur  the  best,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  mother  dear,  it  'ud  be  a  pity  if  we  couldn't 
see  that,"  agreed  Jane  warmly. 

"  But  if  I'd  ever  guessed  what  it  would  lead  to !  If 
I'd  ever  even  suspicioned  that  she'd  'ave  be'aved  as  she's 
be'aved  to-day !    Such  goings-on !  " 

"  If  a  girl's  going  wrong  she'll  go  wrong  anyhow," 
remarked  Em'ly,  "  whether  you  educate  her  or  whether 
you  don't." 

"  'Ow  do  you  know  she's  gone  wrong,"  demanded 
Alg'non,  struggling  up  in  his  chair,  his  blue  eyes  blazing 
in  his  pale  face.    "  You  be  careful  what  you  say." 

"  Well,  Alg'non,  it's  very  good  of  you  to  stand  up  for 
her,"  returned  Mrs.  Somers,  mildly,  "  but  she  did  go 
out  with  one  and  come  'ome  with  another." 

The  enormity  of  which  conduct  Lilith  was  slowly 
realising  as  she  lay  on  her  bed  upstairs,  her  hot  eyes 
pressed  against  the  pillow,  her  blue  muslin  crumpled  up 
all  round  her.  It  had  seemed  such  an  entirely  natural 
thing  to  flee  from  Cyril,  the  bold  suggestion  of  his  look, 
the  profanation  of  his  touch,  to  the  man  simple  and  sin- 
cere, cordial  and  kind,  who  had  had  tea  with  her  and 
talked  to  her  and  afterwards,  as  Lilith  very  well  knew, 
been  sorry  for  her  when  some  unexplained  cloud  had 
settled  over  her,  damping  her  enjoyment  and  destroying 
her  gaiety  on  the  day  of  Lady  Mildred's  little  fete.  She 
had  gone  instinctively  to  him  for  help,  and  he  had  been 
very  ready  with  it.  Even  Cyril  had  not  dared  to  combat 
his  steady  determination  that  Lilith's  freedom  of  choice, 
as  regarded  her  escort  home,  should  be  respected.  Lilith's 
cheek  turned  hot  against  her  pillow  as  she  remembered 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  227 

the  fervour  of  her  "  Oh,  you,  please,  Mr.  Chisholm ! " 
What  must  he  have  thought  of  her! 

At  the  time  what  he  might  think  of  her  had  not 
troubled  her  at  all.  In  response  to  his  quiet  "  What  was 
it  all  about,  Lilith  ?  "  she  had  even  sobbed  out  the  whole 
story.  Not  until  this  moment  had  it  occurred  to  her  to 
wonder  what  he  might  think  of  that!  She  had  been  so 
sure,  so  satisfied  of  his  entire  comprehension,  of  his 
unquestioning  belief.  Yet  he  had  never  said  that  he 
believed.    What  if  he  didn't ! 

She  would  soon  know,  for  he  was  coming  to  see  her 
again.  The  one  sentence  clearly  impressed  on  her  mem- 
ory was  his  last.  "  Try  and  forget  it.  Try  to  put  it  out 
of  your  mind  altogether.  I'll  come  and  see  you  again — 
soon."  Then  had  come  the  confused  ache  of  her  mother's 
suspicions,  of  Jane's  shocked,  accusing  eyes,  and  Em'ly's 
giggle.  Against  which  her  reiterated  "  It's  all  right, 
mother.  I  don't  know  what  you  mean !  I  haven't  done 
anything  I  shouldn't !  "  had  flung  itself  in  frightened — 
and  futile — ^protest. 

"  If  he  comes  again  I  shall  know,  and  if  he  doesn't 
come  again — I  shall  know,"  she  told  herself,  staring 
with  over-bright  eyes  into  the  June  dusk. 

A  low  knock  at  the  door  roused  her.  Her  mother 
came  in. 

"  You  comin'  down  to  supper,  Lilith  ? "  she  asked, 
gently.    "  You'd  no  tea,  you  know." 

Lilith  sat  up  and  pushed  her  hot  hair  from  her  hot 
face,  conscious  of  a  dreadful  inclination  to  sob  again. 
But  she  choked  it  down.  The  thirst  of  many  tears  was 
upon  her,  and  she  was  so  faint  and  hungry  that  even  cold 
beef  and  beer  were  attractive. 

"Who's  there?"  she  asked. 

"  Only  the  girls — an'  Alg'non." 

"  I  shan't  come  down  if  Alg'non's  there,"  with 
decision.  Mrs.  Somers  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  bed 
and  sighed. 

"  I  wish  you  wasn't  so  set  against  him,"  she  said, 


228  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

wearily.    "  I  don't  know  what  he's  ever  done  to  make  you 
'ate  him  so." 

"  I  don't  hate  him ! — at  least,  I  shouldn't  if  he  was — 
different." 

"I  wish  he'd  marry  Em'ly  and  be  done  with  it,  so 
I  do,"  Mrs.  Somers  went  on.  "  Often  I've  thought  lately 
it  looked  as  if  he  would,  after  all.  But  that's  only  when 
you  ain't  about.  I  do  believe  if  I  could  get  you  out  of 
the  way  for  a  bit  he'd  marry  Em.  I  wish  he  would.  It'd 
be  one  of  you  off  me  'ands,  any  way." 

"  And  if  Jane  married  Mr.  Loveday  there'd  be  only 
you  and  me  left,  wouldn't  there,  mother." 

"  Yes,  my  dear." 

"  Then,  if  we  liked,  we  could  leave  London,  couldn't 
we  ?  "  with  a  touch  of  excitement,  "  and  live  right  away 
in  the  country,  just  our  two  selves.  Somewhere  where 
it's  pretty  and  green  and  quiet,  and  we  could  be — really 
happy,  mother." 

"  Happy !  "  echoed  Mrs.  Somers,  a  little  dubiously. 
"  I  don't  know  about  being  happy,  Lilith.  I'm  used  to 
London  ways  now,  and  the  country's  too  quiet  for  me, 
my  girl.  Besides,  you'll  be  marrying  yourself,  one  of 
these  fine  days." 

"  Never,"  with  a  touch  of  tragedy ;  "  I  should  hate  to 
marry  anybody." 

"  You  come  down  an'  get  your  supper,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Somers,  practically. 

After  which  came  a  period  of  peace.  Mrs.  Somers 
still  watched  her  youngest  anxiously,  but  Jane's  glance 
lost  its  disapproval  and  Em  ceased  to  giggle.  Lilith's 
"  goings-on  "  in  the  past  were  plainly  not  to  be  referred 
to  provided  there  were  none  in  the  future.  And  on  this 
point  Lilith's  attitude  was  reassuring.  Nothing  could 
have  been  more  evident  than  her  disinclination  to  wander 
from  the  shelter  of  her  home.  What  Mrs.  Somers  called 
"  walks  abroad  "  were  at  an  end.  So  steadily  did  she 
seclude  herself  that  the  confinement  to  a  stuffy  London 
house  in  sultry  weather  began  to  tell   upon  both  her 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  229 

appearance  and  her  health,  and  at  last  Mrs.  Somers 
protested. 

"  You  might  at  least  walk  along  Upper  Street  and 
'ave  a  look  at  the  shops,"  she  said,  the  beholding  of 
gorgeous  raiment  there  is  not  the  remotest  chance  of  her 
ever  wearing  being  amongst  the  keenest  and  subtlest  of 
a  London  girl's  pleasures. 

But  not  even  the  shops  could  tempt  Lilith  over  her 
mother's  "  doorstun."  When  Sundays  came  she  would 
not  even  go  to  church,  a  development  that  gathered  her 
entire  family  round  her,  heavily  charged  with  remon- 
strance. 

"  You'll  be  ill,  my  girl,  if  you  go  on  like  this," 
complained  Mrs.  Somers,  for  that  Lilith  was  fated  to  "  go 
on  "  in  some  way  was  clear.  "  'Tis  all  very  well  to  be 
stiddy  and  quite  what  I  would  wish,  but  there's  reason  in 
all  things,  Lilith,  an'  there's  nobody  ever  said  a  word 
agin  your  going  to  church,  even  if  it  was  a  Popish  one 
you  fancied." 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  were  so  set  up  with  your 
church,"  observed  Em,  taking  up  the  tale  with  vigour; 
"  you  used  to  be  always  there,  mornin,  noon  an'  night. 
What's  happened  to  you,  Lilith,  all  of  a  sudden,  like 
this?" 

"  You'll  never  get  religion,  Lilith,  if  you  cut  yourself 
off  from  everything  this  way,"  admonished  Jane.  Lilith 
flashed  round  at  her. 

"  Religion !  "  she  said,  "  I  don't  want  religion.  I'm 
sick  of  the  very  sound  of  the  word." 

"  Lilith,  think  what  you're  doin',"  counselled  the  Rev. 
Samuel.  "  Look  where  you're  going!  Remember  the 
lake  of  brimstone  and  the  fires  of  Hell — an'  save  your 
soul  while  it's  yet  to-day." 

"  Soul !  "  echoed  Lilith,  sombrely,  "  why,  I'm  not 
even  sure  I've  got  a  soul." 

Which  was  too  much.  The  Rev.  Samuel  led  the  way 
out  of  the  room  and  the  others  followed  him.  All  but 
Alg'non.    Alg'non  lingered,  lingered  so  persistently  that 


230  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

at  last  the  clash  of  the  front  door  behind  the  departing 
chapel-goers  echoed  through  the  house.  Lilith's  ques- 
tioning eyes  forced  him  into  speech. 

"  If  you  won't  go  to  church  or  chapel — will  you  come 
out  with  me,  Lilith,  instead  ? "  he  asked,  desperately. 
"  We'd  go  up  'Ampstead  way — for  a  walk." 

He  was  imperilling  his  own  immortal  soul  by  suggest- 
ing it,  he  knew,  but  somehow  that  didn't  seem  to  matter 
if  Lilith  would  only  fall  in  with  his  suggestion.  But, 
alas!  Lilith  only  stared  at  him  with  wide  blue  eyes, 
bright  and  frosty  with  disdain,  and  turned  her  back  on 
him  without  a  word. 

Alg'non  went  up  into  the  "  'all,"  took  a  hat-pad  from 
the  stand  and  brushed  his  tall  hat  round  and  round  and 
round — the  wrong  way. 

"  Dam ! "  he  said,  under  his  breath,  and  again 
"Dam!" 

"  You  needn't  swear  about  it,  Alg'non,"  said  an  awe- 
struck voice  from  the  dimness  behind.  Alg'non  turned 
sharply.    It  was  Em'ly. 

"  You  waited  for  me  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Well,  you  needn't 
'a  done  that." 

"  Oh,  Alg'non!    But  you'll  go  with  me,  won't  you?  " 

"  May  as  well,  as  you  are  here !  "  was  his  gracious 
reply. 

Lilith  sat  on  in  the  breakfast-room,  her  elbows  on 
the  table,  her  chin  resting  on  her  clasped  hands,  and  her 
sombre  eyes  fixed  on  the  feet  and  ankles  of  the  passing 
people.  Go  to  church  and  face  them  all !  Never !  Violet 
would  be  there — and  he  would  have  told  Violet.  He 
must  have  done,  for  it  was  three  weeks  now  since  that 
dreadful  afternoon  at  the  Academy,  and  Violet  had  sent 
neither  message  nor  letter.  Lady  Mildred  would  be  there 
— and  he  would  have  told  Lady  Mildred.  Before  even 
the  mental  picture  of  the  amusement  the  tale  would  light 
in  her  ladyship's  bright  and  shining  eyes  Lilith  wilted 
like  a  pansy  in  the  sun.  Father  Dorrington  would  be 
there — and  he  must  have  told  Father  Dorrington  for  no 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  231 

word  had  come  from  him  and  all  Lilith's  "  duties  "  were 
unfulfilled.  Had  he  washed  his  hands  of  her,  too?  In 
spite  of  Em's  admonitions  she  had  said  nothing  in  her 
confession  of  her  expulsion  from  school  and  its  reason. 
It  had  been  a  miscarriage  of  justice  so  monstrous  that  to 
bury  it  beyond  resurrection  was  all  that  was  left  to  her. 
And  now  he  had  heard,  not  her  version — but  Cyril's. 
Would  he  think — would  he  regard  himself  as  having 
failed  with  her  ?  Would  he  hand  over  her  spiritual  direc- 
tion to  the  vicar  ?  Perhaps  to  Mr.  Holroyd  ?  Lilith  was 
conscious  of  sudden  revolt.  Nausea  afflicted  her.  A  blank 
suspicion  of  the  emptiness  of  her  professions  away  from 
the  man  who  had  given  meaning  and  coherence  to  them, 
who  had,  all  unsuspected,  been  the  Deity  around  whom 
they  revolved,  was  over  her.  Lilith,  all  unknowing,  had 
drawn  near  to  the  brink  of  her  own  heart,  and  now 
peeped  shudderingly  therein.  Horrified,  she  sprang  up 
and  ran  into  the  kitchen.  The  imperative  need  was  on 
her  for  some  simple,  practical,  understandable  duty 
beneath  which  lay  no  hidden  sting. 

"  Mother,  mayn't  I  help  you  cook  the  dinner  ?  "  she 
said. 

On  Wednesday  afternoon  in  that  same  week  Chis- 
holm  stood  in  his  rooms  in  Half  Moon  Street,  a  prey 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life  to  painful  indecision. 

"  I've  given  myself  a  month,"  he  told  himself,  "  and 
I'm  as — interested — as  ever."  Then,  suddenly  addressing 
the  square-cut,  sensible,  anxiously  introspective  face  in 
the  glass,  "John  Chisholm,  you're  forty — and  a  fool," 
he  said. 

The  conviction  forced  itself  upon  him  more  than  once 
during  the  long  summer  afternoon.  Never  was  it  more 
unescapable  than  at  the  moment  when  he  stood  with  the 
knocker  of  No.  17  Calthorpe  Road  in  his  hand.  Mrs. 
Somers  looked  up  from  her  darning  with  a  start. 

"That'll  be  one  of  Lilith's  friends,"  she  said,  with 
certainty ;  "  none  but  Lilith's  fine  friends  ever  knock  like 


2S2  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

that.  No  Em'ly,"  as  Em'ly  detached  herself  with  diffi- 
culty from  her  heroine.    "  Don't  you  move,  I'll  go." 

"  Will  you  kindly  step  inside,  sir,"  was  her  answer 
to  Chisholm's  inquiry.  She  ushered  him  into  the  black 
and  white  drawing-room,  where  the  books  and  the  snipe 
resided,  and  seated  herself  deliberately  in  the  horsehair 
armchair  opposite  his. 

"  And  now,  sir,"  she  began,  a  trace  of  challenge  in 
her  tone,  "  I'd  like  to  know  what  you've  come  to  see  my 
Lilith  for." 

"  Well,  I've — simply  come  to  see  her,"  replied 
Chisholm,  not  a  little  taken  aback,  "  come  to  see  her 
because  she  is  a  little  friend  of  mine.  Just  as  I  might  go 
to  see  Miss  Violet  Graeme — who  is  also  a  little  friend 
of  mine.    I  assure  you  it  is — not  unusual." 

"  In  the  speres  to  which  my  Lilith's  risen  perhaps 
not,  sir.  But  with  us — well,  we're  plain  people,  and  with 
a  gel  as  pretty  as  Lilith  I  feel  bound  to  be  careful." 

"  Quite  so,"  returned  Chisholm,  with  a  touch  of 
wonder,  for  the  interview,  in  his  experience,  was  unique. 

'"  It  isn't  that  I  mind  'er  having  visitors,"  Mrs.  Somers 
went  on,  "  or  seeing  anyone  or  doing  anything  to  'liven 
her  up  a  bit.  We've  made  the  mistake  of  educating 
Lilith  above  her  station,  sir,  an'  she  doesn't  settle  down 
at  'ome,  now."  Chisholm's  eyes  filled  up  with  pure  pity. 
Mrs.  Somers  realised  it  with  dull  surprise.  Was  it  pity 
for  Lilith  or  pity  for  her ?  "I  woul-dn't  like  you  to  think 
as  I'd  object  to  anything — so  long  as  I  was  sure  things 
was  quite  all  right." 

"  Is  it  I  you  are  inclined  to  suspect  may  not  be  quite 
all  right?"  inquired  Chisholm,  bluntly. 

The  painful  colour  crept  all  over  Mrs.  Somers'  face, 

"  In  London  one  can't  be  too  careful,  sir,"  she  said. 

"  No,  I  suppose  you  can't."  The  amazement  of  which 
he  was  conscious  invaded  his  voice.  This  was  plain 
speaking  with  a  vengeance.  "  But  I  assure  you,"  and 
indignation  faintly  threatened,  "  that  Lilith  is  as  safe 
with  me  as  she  is  with  you,  any  time,  anywhere." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  233 

"  H  it  had  been  one  o'  the  others  I'd  never  have 
doubted  it,"  returned  Mrs.  Somers,  with  a  hint  of  apology. 
"  But  LiHth !  Well,  we're  afraid  sometimes  she's  indined 
to  be  a  bit  light-minded." 

Light-minded !  The  tragic  little  face,  all  quivering 
and  tear-stained,  that  lay  an  aching  remembrance  in  his 
mind  rose  up  to  confound  him.  Yet  when  our  nearest 
and  dearest  fail  to  comprehend  us,  who  shall  interpret  us 
aright  ?  Chisholm  was  conscious  of  the  stirring  of  a  most 
unwelcome  memory.    But  he  crushed  it  and  kept  it  down. 

"  I — think  you  are  mistaken,"  he  said,  "  and  " — with 
a  sudden  raising  of  his  head — "  I  should  like  to  see  her." 

"  I'll  fetch  her,  sir,"  agreed  Mrs.  Somers,  quite 
meekly. 

Light-minded !  The  word  seemed  to  thunder  in  his 
ears  as  Mrs.  Somers  patted  softly  upstairs.  He  could 
almost  have  prayed  that  no  sinister  ether-wave  might 
carry  its  poisonous  echo  aloft.     Light-minded!     Lilith! 

"  Lilith,  'ere's  a  gentleman  to  see  you,  my  dear." 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  asked  Lilith,  with  white  lips. 

"  It's  the  one  you  came  'ome  with  last  time." 

"Oh!"  said  Lilith,  and  ran.  Her  mother  watched 
her  light  and  flying  figure.  Neither  Hinde's  curlers  nor 
wrappers  need  be  feared  where  Lilith  was  concerned. 

"  She  always  looks  as  if  she'd  just  stepped  out  of  a 
bandbox,  I  will  say  that  for  the  girl,"  her  mother  re- 
flected, with  rather  grudging  approval.  "  If  on'y  she 
was  a  bit  stiddier.  But  there!  There's  always  some- 
thing." 

That  night,  when  the  vicar  sat,  pipe  in  mouth,  in 
the  bare  little  common  room  of  the  Clergy-house,  the 
door  was  pushed  open  and  Chisholm  came  in.  The  two 
men  shook  hands  cordially;  other  greeting  there  was 
none.  Chisholm  pulled  up  a  chair  and  oflfered  a  case  full 
of  large  cigars  to  his  friend.  The  vicar  took  one  with 
a  smile  of  thanks,  fingered  it,  tasted  it,  and  smelt  it. 

"  Something  a  little  out  of  the  ordinary,  eh, 
Chisholm  ?  " 


284  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  Cost  me  four  bob  each,"  replied  Chisholm,  tran- 
quilly. 

The  vicar  laid  it  on  the  table. 

"  It's  wicked,"  he  said,  shortly. 

"  It  would  be  if  you  paid  for  them,"  agreed  Chisholm, 
laughing,  "  but  you  don't.  So  smoke  it  and  be  happy.  I 
have  been  to  see  a  member  of  your  flock  this  afternoon. 
That  little  Somers  girl,  Lilith." 

"  Somers ! "  said  the  vicar,  "  Ah,  I  remember.  She 
was  Dorrington's  penitent.  I  had  forgotten  all  about 
her." 

"  Yes.  I  told  her  about  Dorrington's  going  out  to 
China.  It  was  the  first  she  had  heard  of  it.  I  told  her, 
too,  about  Violet's  having  gone  to  Cumberland." 

"Violet?" 

"  Miss  Graeme.  They  were  very  friendly — ^but  off 
she  goes  to  Cumberland,  and  never  sends  a  word  to 
Lilith,  poor  little  lonely  soul !  " 

"  She  should  have  come  to  church,"  said  the  vicar, 
quickly,  "  then  she  would  have  heard  about  her  friends. 
Why  didn't  she  come  to  church  ?  " 

Chisholm  looked  at  him,  a  long,  slow  look,  as  the 
faint  blue  spirals  of  smoke  curled  about  his  deep  eyes 
and  close-cropped  head. 

"  She  says,"  he  announced,  deliberately,  "  that  she 
is  never  coming  to  church  any  more." 

The  vicar  was  silent.  His  cigar  smoked  faintly  in 
his  fingers  and  went  out. 

"  Indeed !  "  he  said,  at  last.  It  was  not  an  unprece- 
dented thing  that  a  promising  convert  should  suddenly  be 
plucked  back  from  the  very  entrance  to  the  Church's 
fold,  but  it  was  none  the  less  bitter. 

"  To  my  thinking,"  Chisholm  went  on,  "  there's  some- 
thing a  little  amiss  with  a  system  under  which  enthu- 
siasm flares  up  so  finely — and  fizzles  out  so  soon.  You 
seem  to  have  failed  a  bit  here,  don't  you?  When  a  girl 
tells  you  plainly,  as  this  poor  child  told  me  to-night,  that 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  235 

she  cares  nothing  about  religion,  that  she  has  done  with 
Christ " 

"  Did  she,"  interrupted  the  vicar,  "  did  she  dare  to 
say  that?" 

"  I  tell  you,"  Chisholm  went  on,  gravely,  "  that  she 
knows  nothing  about  Him.  She  has  never  so  much  as 
touched  the  hem  of  His  garments." 


XXVIII 


It  was  high  summer  in  Cumberland.  The  grim  fells, 
softened  to  their  summits  with  heather  and  bracken, 
leaned  against  a  sky  of  tender  blue,  and  the  last  snow- 
wreaths  had  melted  even  from  the  fissures  where  winter 
reigns  so  long  upon  their  northern  slopes.  From  every 
tiny  thornbush  on  the  wide  grassy  margins  of  roads  that 
spread  generously  whenever  the  hills  receded  far  enough 
to  let  them,  the  yellow-hammer  plained  all  day  long  his 
short  supply  of  bread  and  entire  lack  of  cheese,  and 
already  the  swifts  flew  south.  The  garden  at  Gimmer- 
dale  sloped  to  the  sun.  Old  clove  carnations  stood  in 
glowing  clumps  a  yard  across  on  either  side  of  its  flagged 
pathways,  and  their  fragrance  and  that  of  giant  stocks 
blew  spicily  on  every  warm  breeze.  The  prickly  bushes 
behind  them  bent  beneath  their  load  of  the  sweet  little 
yellow  "  goozeberry  "  so  beloved  in  the  north  country, 
and  the  young  apples,  waxen  balls  of  tender  green, 
crowded  thick  among  their  clustering  leaves.  It  was  a 
garden  rich  with  beauty,  bright  with  promise ;  to  the  girl 
almost  hidden  in  its  green  heart  dear  beyond  compare. 
A  white  sun-bonnet  was  tilted  forward  on  her  fair  head 
and  her  white  dress  protected  by  a  voluminous  pinafore 
of  tiny  pink  and  white  check  zephyr.  The  ends  of  her 
pretty  white  fingers  were  stained  crimson  with  the  juice 
of  the  ripe  raspberries  she  was  gathering,  and  as  she  gath- 
ered them  she  softly  sang  a  plaintive  little  air,  an  air  em- 
bellished with  the  amazing  variety  of  turn  and  trill  that 
to  the  rustic  mind  alone  suggests  true  art  in  singing. 
She  made  a  charming  picture — so  at  least  one  man 
thought,  a  big,  black-bearded  man,  leaning,  his  hands 
closed  hard  on  the  top  rail,  over  the  white  gate  that 
led  into  the  pasture  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden.  His 
236 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  237 

steady  gaze  at  length  attracted  the  girl's  attention.  She 
looked  up  at  him,  laughing  a  little  in  sheer  lightness  of 
heart  at  the  blueness  of  the  skies,  the  brightness  of  the 
sun,  the  indescribable,  keen,  pure  freshness  of  the  morn- 
ing. But  at  something  in  the  quality  of  his  regard  a 
little  shade  fell  over  her  gentle  gaiety.  Half  absently, 
she  put  one  of  her  finest  raspberries  in  her  mouth,  and  it 
stained  her  pretty  lips  with  crimson.  The  spontaneity, 
the  childishness  of  the  action,  was  almost  more  than  the 
giant  leaning  over  the  gate  could  bear. 

"  Hanna  yo  one  for  me?  "  he  asked. 

Violet  stood  up,  a  crowd  of  sweet  peas,  "  on  tiptoe 
for  a  flight,"  and  of  every  dainty  tint  under  Heaven 
fluttering  all  round  her.  Soberly  she  carried  her  brim- 
ming basket  to  the  gate,  and  rested  it  on  the  top  rail. 
David  helped  himself  to  one  or  two  raspberries,  gleaming, 
translucent,  and  ruby-red,  but  they  failed  a  little  of  their 
promise.  Perhaps  Violet's  response  had  not  been  quite 
what  he  had  hoped  for.  A  man  may  be  thirty  and 
bearded  and  grave,  and  not  above  the  pretty  follies  we 
are  inclined  to  associate  only  with  youth,  Violet  shook 
up  her  basket  a  little,  and,  shaking  off  some  nameless 
oppression  at  the  same  time,  smiled  again. 

"  Won't  Rhona  be  pleased  with  such  a  lovely  lot  ?  " 
she  said,  adding,  with  a  touch  of  charming  childishness, 
"  she  is  going  to  make  a  raspberry  cake  for  tea," 

"  Little  greedy,"  admonished  the  man  with  tender 
scorn,  and  then,  the  words  wrung  out  of  him  by  some 
impulse  stronger  than  himself,  "  Eh,  lass ;  but  it's  good 
to  have  thee  whoam  again." 

Violet's  mouth  dropped  into  gravity;  her  eyes  dark- 
ened with  a  touch  of  awe.  David  had  lifted  his  broad 
felt  hat  from  his  crisp  dark  curls.  It  meant  a  moment's 
voiceless  communing  with  the  Most  High,  and  she  knew 
it. 

"  When  we  lost  you,"  he  went  on  presently,  "  when 
yon  gran'  folk  came  an'  carried  yo'  away,  wheer  such 
as  I  could  nivver  follow  you,  I  thought  '  The  hand  o'  th' 


238  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Lord  is  heavy;  I  mun  ha'  bin  a  sinner  greater  than  I 
knew.  He  has  laid  upon  me  more  than  I  can  bear ! ' 
An'  then  lo!  He  repented  Him — an'  yo'  caame  whoam 
again." 

Violet  smiled  a  little  wistfully  and  her  colour  rose. 
There  was  in  David's  voice  so  deep  a  gratitude  for  an 
almost  unbelievable  guerdon  that  she  was  conscious  of 
vague  distress. 

"  I — wish  I  had  never  gone — sometimes,"  she 
acknowledged. 

"  Ah !  "  returned  David,  and  the  note  of  deep  satis- 
faction sounded  in  his  voice.  "  Then  it  was  even  as  I 
said  it  would  be.  Heartbreak  an'  bitterness,  disillusion 
and  awakening." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Violet  softly,  her  gaze  going  out  across 
the  heaving  shoulder  of  the  fell. 

"  An'  you've  come  whoam  again,  like  the  curlew  to 
the  moorland,  like  the  swallow  to  her  nest.  Thank  the 
dear  Lord  for  it " — and  once  again  David's  broad  hat  of 
grey  felt  was  lifted.  "  Home  to  wheer  worldly  gew-gaws 
are  nowt,  an'  the  things  of  the  spirit  are  all.  Eh,  but  I 
hev  wrastled  i'  prayer  that  it  might  be  so,  lass.  I  hev 
that.  For  a  long  time  I  despaired ;  wi'  shaame  and  sor- 
row do  I  say  it.  I  told  myself  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord 
was  heavy  upon  me,  that  He  would  not  hear  my  prayer 
nor  grant  to  mine  eyes  their  desire.  Bitterness  and 
grief  took  hold  upon  me,  and  almost  did  I  fail  in  my 
zeal  for  the  Lord's  work,  for  I  said,  '  The  Lord  does  not 
keep  faith  with  His  servant.  In  the  heat  o'  the  day,  in 
the  cool  o'  the  night,  I  ask  an'  ask  an'  ask  again — but 
nowt  do  I  receive.'  An'  then  Rhona's  gift  came  upon 
her.  I  saw  her  stand  wi'  her  arms  fallin',  and  her  face 
lifted,  an'  her  eyes,  all  blind  and  dwamley,  lookin'  to  the 
south,  an'  I  knew  what  she  saw  even  before  she  said, 
'  I  see — joy.     Joy  cometh — in  the  momin'.'  " 

Violet  paled  a  little,  and  her  hands  shook  so  that  one 
or  two  of  the  raspberries  rolled  over  the  edge  of  her 
basket  and  lay   gleaming,  jewel-like,   upon  the  mossy 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  239 

stones.  Could  David  not  look  beyond  the  present  ?  Did 
nothing  foreshadow  for  him  the  day  when  she  must — 
go? 

"  An'  what  shall  I  do  for  th'  dear  Lord  who  has  done 
so  much  for  me  ?  "  he  went  on,  his  deep  and  resonant 
voice  trembling,  his  eyes  burning  and  glowing  with  a 
light  not  of  this  world  as  he  drank  thirstily  of  the  blue- 
ness  of  Violet's  gentle,  pitying  gaze.  "  Carry  His  mes- 
sage, surely,  to  them  who  wait  for  the  feet  of  those 
that  bring  good  tidings  upon  the  mountains.  Theer's 
a  mon  ower  at  Windy  Gap,  Violet,  an'  he's  dyin'.  Shalln't 
we  carry  the  Lord's  message  to  him  ?  " 

Violet  hesitated  one  painful  moment.  How  entirely 
he  identified  her  with  his  work — and  his  happiness.  A 
sudden  dread  of  him,  of  the  walk  of  long  miles  beside 
him,  of  what  she  might  find  it  necessary  to  explain  to  him, 
was  over  her.     Weakly  she  cast  about  for  release. 

"  Can  you,  David  ?     I  thought — the  hay " 

"  The  hay ! "  David's  lofty  look  was  just  touched 
by  scorn.  "  An'  do  yo'  think  the  Lord  won't  tak'  tent 
o'  my  business  whiles  I  tak'  tent  o'  Hisn  ?  " 

Violet  made  no  further  objection.  She  had  known 
that  David  would  be  her  constant  companion  when  she 
made  up  her  mind  to  come  back  to  Gimmerdale,  but  she 
had  hardly  been  prepared  for  this  new  David,  all  a-thrill 
with  gratitude  for  a  boon  that  was  not  yet  his.  She  had 
not  been  without  her  intuitions  in  the  old  days.  The 
grave,  strong,  taciturn  man  had  been  unable  to  hide  the 
tender,  almost  reverent  affection  in  which  he  held  her, 
and  it  had  been  with  a  vague  sense  of  a  danger  escaped 
that  she  had  left  Cumberland  three  years  ago.  She  had 
come  back  reassured.  David  had  done  nothing,  said 
nothing  in  all  those  three  years  to  give  her  cause  for 
uneasiness.  But  love  once  wakened  in  a  heart  as  deep 
as  his  is  alive  to  the  end.  Cruelty  cannot  kill  nor  absence 
wither  it.  The  touch  of  exaltation  and  mysticism  about 
him,  the  glow  of  religious  fervour  in  which  he  passed  his 
life,  had  only  nourished  and  developed  it     His  passion. 


240  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

nurtured  by  solitude  and  dreams,  had  had  three  years 
in  which  to  grow.  It  had  grown  into  an  impulse  so 
strong,  an  influence  so  deep,  that  the  man's  life  and  love 
were  one. 

And  Violet's  home-coming  had  had  for  him  a  signifi- 
cance at  which  Violet  herself  stood  aghast.  Before  the 
problem  of  how  to  explain  to  him  just  what  that  home- 
coming had  meant  to  herself  the  girl  hesitated,  dumb- 
founded and  dismayed.  Meanwhile  the  two  walked 
slowly  up  the  sunny  garden  together,  and  David's  joy 
in  the  gift  that  was  not  yet  his  flung  over  all  the  lovely 
world  that  "  light  that  never  was  on  land  or  sea." 

The  farmyard,  thickly  strawed,  was  empty  as  they 
crossed  it;  even  Bob  and  Biddy,  the  sheep-dogs,  were 
absent  on  their  master's  business.  "  Owd  Bet,"  employed 
now  in  easy  tasks  about  the  house  since  she  was  too  feeble 
to  be  of  use  in  the  fields,  looked  up  with  an  astonishment 
she  could  not  hide  when  the  master  himself  entered 
the  big  cool  "  house-place "  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon. 

"Eh,  is  it  yo'  maister?"  she  asked.  "  Whatn's 
wrang?  " 

"  Nowt,"  answered  David  curtly. 

"  Nowt !  "  echoed  Bet  incredulously.  "  An'  the  sun 
up  an'  the  south  wind  blawin'.  Ah  s'uldn't  a  thowt," 
with  true  north-country  outspokenness,  "  'at  this  wer' 
weather  fur  waastin'." 

"  Gan  th'  waays,  woman,"  rebuked  David  sternly. 
"  Waaste  an'  wimmen  are  close  akin,  an'  yo'  waaste 
words." 

"  Eh,"  grumbled  Bet  to  herself  as  she  "  sided  the 
pots  "  onto  the  dresser  with  more  clatter  than  was  neces- 
sary, "  so  one  dus,  when  a  lass  is  to  the  fore." 

Violet  had  put  her  basket  on  the  spotless  table,  and 
was  going  up  the  staircase  that  led  out  of  the  kitchen 
to  the  rooms  above.  The  grumble  reached  her.  She 
threw  her  sun-bonnet  on  the  bed  and  turned  to  the  big 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  241 

old-fashioned  swing-glass  to  put  on  her  broad-brimmed 
white  hat — and  her  own  face  startled  her. 

No  one  was  in  the  "  house-place  "  when  she  came 
down  again,  nor  in  the  silent  sunny  yard.  A  sow  lay 
grunting  on  the  straw,  and  seven  little  black  and  white 
pigs,  scrambling  around  and  over  her,  acutely  illustrated 
the  ease  with  which  our  humbler  brethren  attain  that 
satisfaction  and  contentment  we  seek  all  our  lives — in 
vain.  On  the  shady  side  of  the  yard  stood  the  dairy, 
its  swing  windows  open  to  the  air,  the  ivy  covering  the 
roof  shining  glossy  and  green  in  the  morning  light,  a 
blaze  of  tropjeolum,  that  plant  that  scouts  the  soft  caresses 
of  the  south  and  dowers  the  cool  north,  so  richly  with 
almost  tropical  beauty,  glowing  against  the  grey  stones 
of  its  end.  In  the  dairy  a  woman,  tall  and  lissome,  with 
David's  dark  and  dreamy  eyes  and  a  pale,  plaintive  face, 
was  standing  abstracted  and  silent,  a  skimmer  in  her  hand. 
Violet  went  over  to  the  dairy  door,  and  her  blue  eyes, 
following  Rhona's,  gazed  and  gazed  into  its  cool  dim- 
ness. Flat  bowls  of  rich  red  made  a  note  of  warm  colour 
against  the  cold  blueness  of  the  slate  slabs  on  which  they 
stood.  Yet  Rhona  stood  with  fixed  look  and  arrested 
hand.  Violet  leant  her  shoulder  against  the  jamb  of  the 
door,  for  she  trembled. 

"  Rhona,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  held  a  note  of 
awe,  "  do  you  see  anything?  " 

Rhona  turned  with  a  start. 

"  Nay,"  she  said  half  under  her  breath. 

But  Violet  came  a  step  or  two  forward,  drawn  as 
though  in  spite  of  herself. 

"  Rhona,  you  do,"  she  said. 

The  woman  flung  out  the  hand  with  the  bright  skim- 
mer in  it,  and  her  gesture  was  finely  dramatic. 

"  I'm  no  Cassandra,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was 
deep  and  passionate  and  low ;  "  I'll  not  see  sorrow.  An' 
if  I  do  I  willn't  tell." 

A  shadow  fell  across  the  threshold.     It  was  David. 

Yet  it  was  hard  to  believe  in  sorrow  as  they  moved 

i6 


242  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

through  the  blossoming  world.  The  path  wound  round 
the  shoulder  of  a  fell,  dropped  to  a  fair  lakeside,  rose 
again  through  fields  to  where  a  stone  stile  set  in  a  stone 
wall  divided  cultivated  land  from  bracken  and  rocks  and 
harebells  in  patches  of  misty  blue,  and  led  at  last  to  a 
tiny  shieling,  built  of  stone  and  thatched  with  heather, 
set  in  a  fold  of  the  hills.  The  door  was  oj>en.  Man  in 
the  wilds  looks  to  his  brother  man  for  help,  not  hurt, 
and  in  the  box-bed  in  the  corner  lay  the  shepherd  who 
was  dying.  Violet  lingered  in  the  doorway,  shrinking 
nervously  from  a  nearer  view  of  his  unshaven  face  and 
wide  eyes,  but  David  leant  over  him,  his  vigorous,  full- 
blooded  manhood  in  almost  insolent  contrast.  Violet 
heard  his  deep  "  How  art  ta,  lad  ?  "  saw  the  hand,  white, 
weak,  and  wasted,  that  clung  suddenly,  almost  desper- 
ately, to  David's  powerful  arm,  and,  drawing  a  stool  up 
into  the  open  door,  sat  down  and  looked  away,  for  all 
the  green  world  was  dim  with  unexpected  tears.  She 
heard  a  few  questions,  cordial  but  curt,  for  your  true 
dalesman  is  sparing  of  words,  and  then  a  flow  of  rough 
and  homely  eloquence,  vibrant  with  feeling,  unfaltering, 
and  continuous.  David,  who  in  speaking  to  the  God 
Whom  he  had  not  seen  found  none  of  the  difficulty  he  was 
conscious  of  in  speaking  to  his  brother  whom  he  had, 
was  "  wrastling  i'  prayer." 

It  seemed  a  long,  long  time  before  he  had  finished. ' 
Violet's  thoughts  flew  south.  Wylford  had  not  written 
or  sent  a  message  all  the  long  fortnight  she  had  been 
away.  He  cared  nothing  for  her,  nothing  at  all.  Oh, 
for  some  anodyne  that  would  dull  the  pain  at  her  heart 
and  teach  her  to  forget  him.  For  her  whole  being 
yearned  towards  him.  In  spirit  she  was  far  away  from 
Cumberland's  fells  when  she  heard  David  groping  about 
in  the  cottage,  evidently  intent  on  getting  food  for  the 
sick  man.  She  rose,  all  alert.  This  for  endless  ages 
has  been  the  woman's  part. 

"  Let  me  do  that !  "  she  said,  instinct  dominating  her 
inexperience. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  243 

David  watched  her  moving  softly  about  the  poor  little 
place,  pouring  broth  from  a  saucepan  on  the  hob  into 
a  basin,  looking  in  vain  for  tray  or  cloth  or  even  bread. 

"  Hanna  yo'  owt  ti  ate  ?  "  he  asked  the  man  in  the 
bed. 

"  Nay,"  was  the  reply,  "  an'  Ah  couldn't  ate  it  ef  Ah 
hed!" 

But  he  drank  the  broth,  Violet  holding  it  and  David 
raising  him  in  his  strong  arms  so  that  he  could  swallow. 

"  An'  now,  lad.  Ah  mun  goa,"  David  told  him. 

"  Thank  yo'  kindly,"  he  answered  quite  acquiescent. 

But  Violet  listened  aghast. 

"  Shall  /  stay  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  whisper ;  "  why " 

"  He  may  go  any  minnit !  Ay,  an'  he  knows  it.  But 
he'd  suiner  be  wi'out  yo',  lass.  He's  ready  to  dee.  He's 
one  o'  the  chosen,  an'  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  he  salln't 
be  afraid." 

"  But — it  seems  awful.     Is  there  no  one  ?  " 

"  There's  a  naabor.  She'll  come  in  an'  hev  a  look 
at  him  now  an'  agen,  an'  his  wife'll  be  back  by  sundown, 
an'  he's  nowt  to  fear.  I  salln't  leave  yo',  lassie ;  yo'd  only 
moidher  him." 

"  They  seem — ^very  poor."  Violet  yielded  the  point 
to  David's  decision  without  further  protest.  "  It  seems 
dreadful  that  people,  worthy  people  like  him  and  his 
wife,  should  go  through  life  in  a  little  stone  hut — wanting 
everything." 

"  Ay,  to  yo'r  thinking,  not  to  ours.  To  our  thinking, 
when  a  mon  has  shelter  and  food  and  firin',  he  wants  little 
mair.  It's  well  to  be  poor,  lassie,  to  ha'  little  to  lose  an' 
all  to  gain  when  th'  dread  summons  comes.  It's  well 
even  to  be  unhappy.  This  is  a  vale  o'  tears.  It  is  th* 
Lord's  decree,  an'  who  are  we  that  we  s'ould  try  to  alter 
it.  Th'  Lord  meant  men  to  be  miserable — for  only  so 
would  they  learn  to  look  above  where  all  s'all  be  bliss. 
Fur  mysen,  I  wouldn't  left  a  hand,  no,  not  a  finger,  to 
cure  mankind  o'  their  misery.  How  will  yo'  teach  them 
to  long  for  Heaven  when  all  is  peace  on  earth?  " 


U4t  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  But — the  Lord  came  to  send  peace  on  earth." 

"  Not  i'  that  sense.  Sufferin'  an'  sorrow  will  always 
be.     'Tis  good  for  a  wicked  world." 

"  Then,"  said  Violet  quickly,  "  why  did  you  go  to  com- 
fort poor  Thwaites  just  now?  According  to  that,  the 
more  miserable  he  is  the  better  for  him." 

David  passed  a  large  brown  hand  over  his  crisp  black 
beard,  a  little  nonplussed  to  find  his  actions  so  oddly  at 
variance  with  his  theories. 

"I  was  concerned  for  the  staate  o'  his  soul,"  he 
answered  presently. 

"  Not  entirely." 

"  Oh,  well  " — his  soft  dog-like  eyes  sought  Violet's 
with  a  touch  of  appeal — "  that  wer'  pure  humanity.  Th' 
dear  Lord  Himself  fed  the  hungry  and  pitied  the  deeing." 

"  Yes."  Violet  was  a  little  breathless,  for  the  mists 
of  mistaken  centuries  are  hard  to  dispel.  "  That's  what 
I  mean.     Perhaps  He  didn't  mean  us  all  to  be  miserable." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  did,"  with  conviction.  "  Pain  an'  sick- 
ness, sorrow  an'  loss  are  all  of  th'  Lord.  How  else 
s'ould  we  bear  them!  He  gi'es  us  happiness  sometimes 
in  little  bits.  How  else  s'ould  we  know  what  happiness 
was  like  ?  An'  then  He  says,  '  Look  above.  Only  i' 
Heaven  can  true  happiness  be  found.'  An'  He  taks  it 
awaay  agen." 

Violet  was  silent,  her  momentary  rebellion  against 
teachings  that  had  dominated  her  life  dying  down  into 
chill  ashes.  It  was  true;  it  must  be.  Was  not  David 
himself  a  living,  breathing  proof  of  his  own  dreadful 
conception  of  life  and  its  meaning?  Had  not  "  th'  dear 
Lord  "  of  his  belief  cruelly  dangled  before  him  but  now 
a  promised  happiness  that  He  would  inevitably  snatch 
away  again?  Were  not  his  prayers  thrown  away,  and 
his  adoring  gratitude  for  their  fulfilment  a  mockery? 
David  climbed  the  wall  in  silence,  and  held  out  his  hands 
to  help  Violet  mount  on  the  long  stones  set  for  steps 
in  its  sides.     When  she  was  over  and  on  the  top  step 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  245 

of  the  lower  side,  he  put  her  gently  back  so  that  she  sat 
on  the  wall's  flat  top. 

"  'Tis  that,"  he  said  hoarsely,  and  the  hands  that  still 
held  Violet's  shook,  "  that  meks  me  rejoice  wi'  trembling 
even  now.  Th'  Lord  willn't  gi'e  yo'  to  me,  lass.  It'd 
be — ^too  mich." 

Violet  raised  her  face  to  the  sun,  conscious  of  sudden 
revolt,  passionate  repudiation,  a  desire,  almost  impious 
in  the  light  of  her  own  religious  upbringing,  to  prove 
herself  saner,  kinder,  better  than  was  the  stern  and 
awful  disciplinarian  of  David's  faith.  Why  should  she 
be  the  scourge-stick  by  which  David  was  chastened? 
Why,  when  David  wanted  her  so  much  and  no  one  else 
wanted  her  at  all,  should  she  not  stay  with  him  up  in 
these  beautiful  green  solitudes  and  teach  him,  perchance, 
that  God  is  not  the  jealous  begrudger  of  happiness  Who 
would  have  all  men  miserable  lest  they  fail  to  turn  their 
haggard  eyes  His  way?  A  generous  indignation  for  a 
Deity  misunderstood  and  maligned  was  over  her.  It 
forced  her  into  the  unwisdom  of  speech. 

"  Why  should  you  think  that  God  is  so  cruel  ?  "  she 
said,  and  her  voice  was  all  a-thrill.  "  He  is  the  God  of 
love.  Who  would  have  all  His  children  happy." 

David  gazed  up  at  her,  his  face  going  oddly  grey  in 
the  summer  sunshine. 

"  Do  yo'  mean  that  ?  "  he  demanded,  "  really  mean 

it?" 

"  Of  course  I  mean  it " 

A  touch  stayed  her,  a  touch  unprecedented,  electrical, 
that  shot  like  fire  along  every  maiden  nerve,  the  touch 
of  bearded  lips  upon  her  hands.  The  shock  turned  all 
the  world  dark  before  her  eyes.  What,  what,  in  a  mo- 
ment of  madness,  had  she  done? 

The  sound  of  footsteps,  footsteps  that  echoed  loud 
in  the  summer  stillness,  reached  her  dulled  ears,  roused 
her  to  the  realisation  that  someone  was  coming  up  the 
hillside  towards  them  between  the  breadths  of  whisper- 
ing barley.     She  snatched  her  hands  from  David's  hold, 


246  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

and  sprang  down.  David  turned  swiftly.  A  man,  slen- 
derly made  and  faultlessly  dressed,  was  close  upon  them. 
He  lifted  his  motor-cap  with  one  hand,  and  held  out  the 
other  to  Violet. 

"  I  have  come  for  you,"  he  said  gravely.  "  I — I  am 
sorry." 

"  Grannie  I " 

"  Yes,  she  is  ill.  Mr.  Morrison,  I  presume."  David's 
rustic  bow  was  not  without  dignity.  "  You  will  forgive 
me  if  I  take  her — at  once.  Lady  Wayland  asks  for  her 
continually,  and  there  must  be  no  delay." 

They  were  already  walking  rapidly  in  the  direction 
of  Gimmerdale,  questions  and  replies  fast  following  one 
another.  A  motor  throbbed  in  the  road  before  the  white 
farm  gate,  with  every  able-bodied  inhabitant  of  the  village 
gathered  about  it.  The  motorman  lifted  his  leather  cap 
as  the  three  came  up. 

"  I  came  over  from  Ambleside,"  Wylford  explained 
as  they  entered  the  great  cool  "  house-place  "  together ; 
"  it  was  much  the  quicker  way.  We  shall  catch  the  1.40 
express  south  if  we  are  quick." 

"  What  shall  I — pack  ?  "  asked  Violet  from  the  stairs. 

"  Nothing,  dear.  Get  a  jacket;  it  may  be  cold  travel- 
ling, and  come  as  you  are." 

"  Lass,  yo'll  come  back." 

David's  voice,  deep-toned,  vibrant,  with  a  cry  of 
anguished  dread  in  it,  stayed  her  foot  as  she  mounted. 
What,  zvhat  must  she  say?  Wylford's  quiet  voice  an- 
swered for  her. 

"  I  think  not,  Mr.  Morrison ;  not  this  summer  at  least 
For  the  present,  Lady  Wayland  wants  her,  and  after- 
wards— I  shall." 

"  Yo'f  " 

"  We  are  to  be  married  in  September." 

The  words  floated  clearly  up  the  open  stair.  Violet 
stood,  her  jacket  in  her  hand,  the  need  for  haste  forgot- 
ten. He  had  seen  her  caught  in  subtle  meshes  of  her 
own  spinning,  and  had  taken  this  means  of  rescuing  her ! 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  247 

Her  first  sensation  was  one  of  boundless  relief  for  her  de- 
liverance from  impossible  claims.  It  was  not  until  she  sat 
beside  him  in  the  car  that  anger  swept  over  her,  born  of 
scorching,  intolerable  shame. 

"  You  had  no  right  to  say — ^that,"  she  told  him,  her 
white  lips  quivering,  her  eyes  wide  and  dark  with  woe. 
He  silenced  her  with  a  touch  of  his  hand. 

"  I  had  every  right.  I  know — Good  God,  Violet,  why 
should  you  and  I  pretend  with  one  another !  I  know  that 
you  love  me.  I  see  you  in  danger  of  making  a  hideous 
mistake " 

"  And  you  presume  upon — what  you  believe  I  feel 
for  you — to  place  me  in  a  position  more  intolerable  than 
— any  I  could  have  created  for  myself." 

"  Am  I  to  stand  by  and  watch  you  wreck  your  life, 
fling  away  your  chances  of  happiness,  give  pledges  of 
which  as  yet  you  do  not  even  remotely  guess  the  mean- 
ing, because  you  see  everything  through  a  mist  of  exalted 
feeling,  because  life  for  you  is  glamour,  not  reality? 
Do  you  think  any  religion  would  help  you  to  stand  the 
strain  of  daily  intimate  companionship  with  a  man  like 
David,  a  man,  worthy  and  admirable  as  he  is,  to  whom 
whole  tracts  of  your  individuality  would  be  incomprehen- 
sible? I  can't  do  it,  Violet.  I — don't  hold  you  to  what 
I  said — if  you  would  rather  I  didn't " 

"  If  I  would  rather  you  didn't.  It  was  good  of  you 
to  sacrifice  yourself  to  correct  my  mistakes " 

"Sacrifice!     How?" 

But  Violet  was  beyond  speaking;  the  stab  of  this 
early  shuffling  off  of  his  chains  had  been  too  cruel.  Wyl- 
ford  leant  forward  and  laid  a  hand  upon  her  knee  as  the 
car  flew  through  the  green  world. 

"Sacrifice!"   he    said   again.     "Is    it  possible ! 

Don't  you  know  why !     Do  you  think  I  don't  want 

to  marry  you  ?  " 

The  road  was  empty  even  of  a  dog;  the  motorman 
was  fully  occupied ;  only  the  little  black-faced  moorland 
sheep  had  cunning  eyes  to  see.     Wylford  took  the  girl 


248  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

beside  him  suddenly  into  his  arms,  for  the  rapture  in 
her  startled  eyes,  compounded  of  all  that  is  best  on  earth 
and  Heaven,  swept  out  of  existence  everything  but  itself. 
"  Oh,"  he  groaned  a  moment  later,  for  remorse 
already  made  him  feel  the  sharpness  of  her  tooth.  "  I 
have  no  right  to  do  it.  I'm  a  bounder  and  a  cad.  You 
won't  be  happy  with  me,  Violet.  But,"  suddenly  recap- 
turing his  sense  of  all-sufficient  excuse,  "  you  will  be 
happier  with  me  than  you  would  with  David." 


XXIX 

And  Lilith 

"was  left  alone. 
And  wearying  in  a  land  of  sand  and  thorns." 

Life  seemed  to  offer  nothing,  to  hold  nothing  worth 
the  doing.  Had  there  been  the  necessity  for  earning 
money  things  would  have  been  different — and  better. 
The  daily  attendance  at  an  office,  the  daily  performance 
of  many  hours'  hard  and  distasteful  work  may  be  hard- 
ship, but  at  least  it  has  to  lighten  its  movement,  change, 
companionship,  and  the  satisfaction  of  an  end  attained, 
if  that  end  be  only  a  mean  one.  Had  Ebenezer  Somers 
been  less  successful  or  less  saving  his  daughter  had  been 
happier,  for  the  weariest  drudgery  that  exists  is  less 
hurtful  than  the  sense  of  superfluity  and  uselessness,  the 
realisation  that  there  is  no  little  niche  in  the  whole  social 
cosmogony  specially  reserved  for  one  to  fill. 

When  the  glow  of  spurious  religious  exaltation  died 
out  in  her  heart  there  seemed  to  Lilith  to  be  nothing 
left.  A  shrinking  horror  of  Cyril  and  his  possible  dis- 
closures stood  between  her  and  all  that  her  friendship 
with  Violet  had  offered.  Algernon's  reproachful  gloom 
embittered  her  life  at  home.  Her  mother  still  watched, 
with  a  touch  of  trembling  apprehension,  for  any  indica- 
tion on  her  part  of  further  steppings  aside  from  the 
very  straight  and  narrow  way  of  urban  respectability, 
and  it  made  impossible  every  effort,  however  innocent, 
in  the  direction  of  change  or  variety  save  such  as  she 
might  enjoy  in  common  with  her  sisters.  And  her  rela- 
tions with  her  sisters  added  for  Lilith  the  last  intolerable 
straw  to  the  burden  of  her  days.  Em'ly  and  her  ideas 
had  always  been  to  her  incomprehensible  and  unpleasant, 

249 


250  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

but  with  Jane  up  to  now  she  had  been  conscious  of  sym- 
pathy and  the  dawnings  of  a  mutual  affection.  But  lately 
Jane  had  altered.  Her  manner  was  tinged  with  ice,  her 
remarks  had  an  unwonted  edge  to  them,  her  glance  was 
averted  and  chill.  Why  this  should  be  so  Lilith  was  at  a 
loss  to  imagine,  seeing  that  the  Rev.  Samuel  Loveday, 
deeply  concerned  for  the  state  of  her  unhappy  little  soul, 
was  labouring  hard  for  her  conversion,  coming  to  see  her 
three  or  four  times  a  week,  insisting  on  her  accept- 
ance of  entirely  hypothetical  conclusions  one  minute 
and  bewildering  her  with  casuistical  tangles  the  next. 
Lilith  simply  suffered  his  ministrations.  They  were  a 
break  in  the  deadly  monotony,  and  he  could  hardly  be 
disappointed  at  their  utter  absence  of  result  considering 
how  often  she  had  told  him  that  she  was  not  religiously 
inclined.  But  she  had  certainly  expected  Jane  to  take  a 
warm  interest  in  his  efforts  to  soften  the  heart  that 
according  to  him  was  hard  as  granite  in  her  bosom. 
Whereas  Jane  did  nothing  at  all  of  the  sort.  She 
heard  the  announcement  that  he  was  coming  again  to 
spend  the  afternoon  in  exposition  and  prayer  for  Lilith's 
benefit  with  a  heightened  colour  and  grim  lips,  and  she 
betrayed  no  interest  whatever  in  the  lamentable  fact  that 
Lilith  "  felt  no  better  "  for  his  efforts.  It  was  not  what 
Lilith  had  expected.  She  could  not  understand  it  at  all, 
until  one  morning  when  she  came  down  late  to  breakfast 
and  found  her  mother  with  a  letter  in  her  hand  and  Jane 
in  tears.  Her  mother  looked  from  her  to  Lilith,  and 
back  again. 

"  It's  hard  on  you,  Jane,  I'll  not  deny  it,  but  he's 
never  spoke,  you  know,  my  girl,  and  until  a  man  has 
spoke  he's  a  right  to  change  his  mind  if  'e  chooses." 

Jane  dried  her  eyes  with  vigour,  and  resolutely  put 
away  her  handkerchief.  Em'ly  gave  Lilith  a  glance 
of  such  curious  quality  that  the  girl  caught  her  breath  a 
little  as  she  met  it. 

"  It  isn't  what  I  looked  for  from  'im,  I  will  say  that," 
Mrs.  Somers  went  on ;  "  I'd  'a  thought  'ed  'a  'ad  the  sense 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  251 

to  choose  someone  more  fittin'.  But  there,  some  girls 
seem  born  to  make  fools  of  all  the  men  they  know,  an' 
Lilith's  one  of  'em." 

Lilith's  eyes  turned  suddenly  black.  Had  she  any 
connection  with  Jane's  unwonted  tears? 

"  It  isn't  as  if  she  would  appreciate  him,"  remarked 
Em'ly.  "  If  she  behaved  different,  and  valued  what  she 
gets !  "  To  starve  for  a  boon  one's  self  and  see  it  thrown 
away  upon  an  unappreciative  sister.  That  was  a  bitter- 
ness with  which  Em'ly  could  sympathise  indeed. 

"  Appreciate  who?  "  asked  Lilith, 

"  My  gel,  the  Rev.  Loveday's  wrote  and  asked  for 
you,"  said  her  mother. 

"  Mr.  Loveday !     Asked  for  me! " 

Jane  rose.     Here  was  turpitude  beyond  condonation. 

"  Don't  pretend  you  don't  know,  Lilith,"  she  said. 
"  You  may  come  'ome  and  wreck  everybody's  happiness, 
first  Em'ly's  and  then  mine,  but  you  needn't  try  an'  make 
us  think  you  haven't  seen  what  you  were  doing." 

"  Reg'lar  little  viper,  that's  what  you  are,"  flashed 
Em'ly,  following  her  elder  sister  from  the  room.  Lilith 
turned  to  her  mother. 

"  Do  they  think  I  want  him  ?  "  she  inquired  aghast. 

"  No,  my  dear,  't  would  be  easier  for  Jane  if  you 
did,"  returned  her  mother.  "  It's  cruel  hard  on  Jane, 
I  must  say,  an'  I  would  have  thought  Sam  Loveday'd 
got  more  sense,  I  would,  indeed." 

"  It  isn't  my  fault." 

"  Well,  Lilith,  so  you  say,  but  'tis  a  little  hard  to 
believe  it.  We've  all  done  our  best  for  you,  and  bin 
kind  to  you,  I'm  sure,  but  things  'aven't  bin  the  same 
sence  you  come  home,  my  gel,  an'  it's  difficult  to  believe 
'at  it  ain't  your  fault." 

Lilith  said  no  more,  but  her  breakfast  choked  her. 
Never  could  she  have  believed  that  the  position  of  thorn 
in  the  family  flesh  could  be  so  painful — for  the  thorn. 
There  seemed  nowhere  to  sit  but  in  her  bedroom,  for  the 
atmosphere  of  resentment  and  suspicion  downstairs  was 


262  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

unbearable.     Lilith  sat  there  until  she  was  called  down 
to  dinner.     And  thereby  gave  fresh  offence. 

"  I  don't  mind  a  bit  of  a  temper,"  her  mother  re- 
marked. "Soon  up  an'  soon  over;  that's  me,  an'  Jane 
an'  Em'ly  too.     But  a  sulky  girl  I  never  could  abide." 

"  I'm  not  sulky,"  said  Lilith. 

"  So  you  say,  my  dear,"  returned  Mrs.  Somers,  "  an' 
all  I  can  answer  is  that  I  wish  you  didn't  look  it." 

After  which  Lilith  sat  in  the  black  and  white  drawing- 
room  with  the  wax  flowers  and  the  stuffed  snipe.  It 
throbbed  with  memories  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  and  his 
efforts  for  her  salvation,  but  it  was  better  than  Jane's 
grief  and  Em'ly's  indignation  downstairs.  She  was  sit- 
ting there,  absorbed  in  the  endeavour  to  understand  why 
her  relation  to  her  environment  had  proved  so  eminently 
unsatisfactory,  when  a  man  came  briskly  up  the  well- 
whitened  steps.  Lilith  did  not  wait  for  him  to  knock. 
She  flew  into  the  hall  and  flung  the  door  wide. 

"  Oh,   Mr.  Chisholm,  oh,  Mr.   Chisholm,"  she  said. 

Chisholm's  deep  eyes  brightened.  Lilith,  faltering 
deliciously  between  laughter  and  tears,  was  a  sight  to 
brighten  any  man's  eyes.  He  had  doubted  his  wisdom 
in  coming,  doubted  it  so  strongly  that  he  had  put  off 
his  coming  from  day  to  day  till  nearly  a  month  had  gone 
by,  but  he  doubted  it  no  longer.  It  was  worth  the  sacri- 
fice of  a  little  wisdom  to  bring  that  rapture  of  greeting 
into  anyone's  face,  even  if  it  were  only  the  rapturous 
greeting  of  a  child  for  a  beneficent  elder  with  his  pockets, 
metaphorically  speaking,  full  of  chocolates. 

"  Won't  you  ask  me  ?  "  he  asked  smilingly. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,"  said  Lilith  with  penitent  eyes. 
Everything  spoke  of  the  tumult  of  her  welcome.  The 
"  top,"  interminable  task,  at  which  she  had  been  work- 
ing was  on  the  floor,  and  the  ball  of  cotton  had  rolled 
far  away.  The  antimacassar  hung  forlorn  by  its  corner, 
and  the  piano  stool,  with  a  gorgeous  parrot  worked  in 
wool  on  the  top,  was  overturned.  Crisholm's  eyes  missed 
nothing,  either  of  fact  or  significance. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  253 

"  Are  you  glad  to  see  me,  Lilith  ?  "  he  said  softly, 
for  the  wisest  of  men  are  not  insensible  to  flattery  like 
this. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  returned  Lilith  with  fervour. 

"  Then  call  your  mother,  child.  I  came  to  see  if 
she  would  let  me  take  you  out  somewhere.  Do  you 
never  open  a  window  here,  even  in  August  ?  " 

"  /  do,"  Lilith's  reply  was  quite  unresentful.  "  But 
mother  doesn't  care  about  having  it  open  too  much;  it 
makes  the  curtains  dirty.  Mother,  mother,"  even  as 
Lilith  rushed,  a  small  feminine  whirlwind,  down  the 
dark  basement  stairs  she  was  conscious  of  the  soul-satis- 
fying difference  between  Chisholm's  methods  and  Cyril's, 
"  it's  Mr.  Chisholm.  He  wants  you.  He's  going  to 
ask " 

She  faltered  into  silence.  The  whip  of  her  mother's 
displeasure  had  been  about  her  shoulders  all  day.  Was 
it  to  be  exchanged  for  the  scorpion  of  punishment? 
Would  her  mother,  perhaps,  not  let  her  go  out  with  Mr. 
Chisholm!  Mrs.  Somers  rose  with  provoking  slowness, 
put  the  stocking  she  was  darning  on  the  table,  and  went 
upstairs.     Chisholm  shook  hands  cordially. 

"  I've  come  to  take  Lilith  out,"  he  said,  "  if  you'll 
allow  me.  I  thought  we  would  have  a  pleasant  after- 
noon at — at "  seeking  desperately  for  some  sugges- 
tion quite  unexceptional,  reassuringly  familiar,  blatantly 
middle-class,  "at  Kew  Gardens,     May  she  go?" 

Mrs.  Somers  hesitated  for  what  was  to  Lilith  an 
awful  moment.  But  acquiescence  settled  blandly  over 
her.  This  was  quite  the  right  thing  according  to  Canon- 
bury  standards ;  the  man  himself  was  a  friend,  not  only 
of  Lilith's,  but  of  the  family.  Had  he  not  "  stayed  tea  " 
with  them  last  time  he  came,  and  eaten  shrimps  and 
bread  and  butter  with  appetite  down  in  the  basement 
parlour ! 

"  I've  no  objection,  sir,"  she  said  at  last.  "  It's  very 
good  of  you,  I'm  sure.     Go  an'  put  your  'at  on,  Lilith. 


254  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

I'll  ask  you,  sir,  not  to  keep  'er  out  after  nine.  I  never 
'ad  the  others  out  after  nine,  an'  I  won't  Lilith." 

Chisholm  bowed,  a  little  to  Mrs.  Somers'  astonish- 
ment, and  then  his  intelligence  divided  itself  into  two 
channels.  One  occupied  itself  with  Mrs.  Somers'  en- 
tertainment, to  which  end  he  discussed  the  weather  with 
as  much  originality  as  he  could  command.  With  the 
other  he  asked  himself,  "  What  am  I  doing?  Have  I 
counted  the  cost?  Have  I?  Have  I  counted  the  cost? 
Have  I." 

But  all  question  of  cost  was  swept  out  of  his  mind 
by  the  sight  of  Lilith,  in  her  simple  little  coat  and  skirt 
of  grey  tweed  that  shouted  aloud  of  its  Islington  origin, 
a  Lilith  delicately  flushed,  adorably  young,  desperately 
happy.  "  It's  worth  it,"  he  told  himself,  dwelling  with 
deHghted  eyes  upon  her  eager,  mobile  little  face,  "  it's 
worth  all  I  shall  inevitably  pay  for  it."  Then,  with 
a  touch  of  hardihood  as  the  extreme  youth  of  his  com- 
panion struck  him  afresh  in  the  white  blaze  of  the  August 
sunshine,  "  It  doesn't  matter.  Everyone  will  think  I'm 
her  father." 

A  taxicab  was  waiting  at  the  end  of  Calthorpe  Road, 
and  it  was  into  that  acutely  novel  chariot  that  Chisholm 
handed  his  companion.  He  sat  back,  steadily  regarding 
her,  for,  as  the  vehicle  slid  and  curved  among  the  traffic, 
Lilith,  absorbed  in  the  experience,  had  nothing  to  say. 
He  had  been  aware  from  the  first  of  the  attraction  this 
girl  had  for  him.  He  had  told  himself  in  the  beginning 
that  his  interest  was  the  interest  any  man  must  feel 
in  a  beautiful  child,  a  child  of  ardent  impulses  and  what 
promised,  with  training,  to  be  a  rare  intelligence,  a  child 
set  by  cruel  circumstance  in  an  environment  peculiarly 
unsuitable.  But  he  knew  now  it  was  more  than  that. 
His  life  had  been  a  life  of  action,  but  beneath  there  had 
been,  all  unsuspected,  a  man  of  dreams.  Many  women, 
on  widely  different  social  planes,  had  appealed  to  him 
for  a  time,  but  none  had  made  a  deep  and  enduring  im- 
pression.    So  invariable  and  so  disappointing  was  his 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  256 

experience  of  the  swift  fading  of  enchantment  and  the 
sure  sequence  of  disillusion,  satiety,  and  weariness,  that 
he  had  come  to  the  idea  that  woman,  as  a  product  of 
modern  education  and  conditions,  held  no  appeal  for 
him  at  all.  Yet  he  was  a  man  who  longed  for  love, 
for  the  simple,  natural,  holy  human  ties  that  at  their  best 
come  so  near  to  satisfaction.  It  was  inevitable  that  the 
idea  of  training  a  wife  for  himself  should  occur  to  him. 
He  had  toyed  with  it  for  years,  arguing  its  perfect  prac- 
ticability one  moment,  turning  from  its  lying  promise  the 
next. 

Until  he  saw  Lilith. 

He  took  her  through  the  crowds  of  comfortable  mid- 
dle-class folk  who  filled  the  gardens  to  where  tiny  tables, 
marble-topped,  stood  under  an  awning,  and  black-coated 
waiters  moved  noiselessly  about.  The  waiter  nearest 
smiled  and  said  "  Good  afternoon,  sir,"  in  answer  to  his 
nod.  Tea  came,  it  seemed  to  Lilith,  automatically,  with 
dainty  china  and  fairy  bread-and-butter  and  a  pile  of 
luscious  greengages  lying  on  delicately  tinted  leaves. 

"  We'll  have  dinner  somewhere,  Lilith,  before  we  go 
home,"  he  told  her.  "  I  shouldn't  have  dared  to  keep 
you  out  till  nine  if  it  hadn't  been  your  mother's  own  sug- 
gestion. As  it  is  we  may  as  well  take  advantage  of  the 
chance,  mayn't  we  ?  " 

Lilith  smiled,  absolutely  acquiescent.  To  Chisholm 
there  was  something  pathetic  in  her  entire  confidence  in 
him  and  his  proposals.  Would  she,  and  her  mother, 
have  trusted  other  men  as  .they  had  trusted  him  ?  he  won- 
dered. And  then  a  new  shade  that  he  had  seen  once 
or  twice  this  afternoon  on  Lilith's  face  forced  itself  upon 
his  notice  again. 

"  Is  there  anything  the  matter,  child  ?  "  he  asked. 

It  was  an  odd  place  for  confidences,  but  Lilith's  heart 
was  full,  and  sympathy  is  a  golden  key.  Then  and  there 
he  heard  the  story  of  Algernon  and  his  aspirations,  of 
the  Rev.  Samuel  Loveday  and  his  love.     More  from  what 


256  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

she  did  not  say  than  from  what  she  did  he  gathered  the 
fact  of  her  sisters'  indignation  and  her  mother's  be- 
wildered distress, 

"  Awkward  for  you,  LiUth,"  was  his  only  comment. 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  ?  "  agreed  Lilith  with  a  sigh.  "  I  don't 
know  how  it  is  I  always  want  to  tell  you  things,  but  I  do," 
she  added  with  a  touch  of  wonder. 

*'  Perhaps  you  know  that  I  want  to  be  told,"  he  sug- 
gested. "  Then  he  didn't  succeed  in  converting  you, 
Lilith?" 

"  I  didn't  want  to  be  converted." 

"  But  you  want  to  be  good  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Lilith  with  decision. 

"  You  did  at  one  time." 

"  When  I  went  to  St.  Alphege  ?  I  wanted  to  be 
happy,  and  they  told  me  that  if  I  tried  to  be  good  I 
should  be.     But  I  wasn't." 

"  That  is  what  we  all  want,  to  be  happy,  though  it 
is  rarely  that  a  child  like  you  appreciates  the  fact  so 
clearly.  What  does  the  drunkard  seek,  swilling  in  a 
public-house?  Happiness.  What  does  the  devotee  seek, 
on  his  knees  keeping  cold  vigil  before  the  altar  ?  Happi- 
ness.    What  is  happiness,  Lilith?  " 

''  I  don't  know." 

"  Does  anyone  ?  "  said  Chisholm  gravely.  "  We  seek 
it  all  our  lives,  and  we  are  like  children  chasing  the  end 
of  the  rainbow.  Be  good  and  you  will  be  happy,  say 
the  moralists.  I  don't  believe  that,  Lilith.  I  hold  more 
with  those  who  say,  '  Be  happy  and  you  will  be  good.' 
But  what  is  happiness?     Are  you  happy  now?  " 

"  Ye-es." 

"  Not  entirely.     There  is  something  wanting." 

"  Will  there  always  be  something  wanting  ?  " 

"  Always." 

"  Is  there  for  you?     Are  you  happy?  " 

"  I  should  be,"  answered  Chisholm  with  brightening 
eyes,  "  if " 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  257 

"If  what?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  later." 

"When?" 

"  In  a  year,  two  years,  three  years." 

"No,"  said  Lilith,  "tell  me  now." 

"  It's  your  turn  first.  You're  the  youngest  by  a  very 
long  way.  Tell  me,  Lilith,  what  you  think  would  make 
you  really  happy." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Lilith  again. 

"  Suppose  you  were  rich  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  very  nice  to  be  rich,"  she  said  soberly, 
"  but  I  can  quite  see  that  I  might  be  very  rich  and  very 
miserable." 

"  And  you  cannot  suggest,  you  have  never  thought 
about  any  other  circumstance  that  might  make  you 
happy  ?  " 

The  colour  rose  deliciously  in  Lilith's  cheek  and  sud- 
den shyness  veiled  her  eyes.     He  watched  her  closely. 

"  Most  girls  dream,"  he  said,  "  of  the  time  when 
someone,  somewhere,  will  love  them  very,  very  dearly." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Lilith  with  a  touch  of  passion,  "  and 
when  someone  does  he  isn't  a  bit  like  the — the  person 
she  thought  it  was  going  to  be,  and  it  doesn't  make  her 
happy  at  all." 

Chisholm  drew  back  sharply.  It  was  almost  as  though 
the  little  hand  lying  like  a  half-closed  roseleaf  on  the 
table  had  struck  him.  Lilith's  words  held  for  him  a  note 
of  hideous  possibility,  a  possibility  he  had  seen  from  the 
first.  It  was  with  a  deepened  conviction  that  he  was 
indeed  a  fool  that  he  continued  his  deliberate  investi- 
gations. 

"  Suppose  you  had  another  companion.  Is  there  any- 
one, anvwhere,  whose  presence  could  make  you  happy 
to-day,  Lilith?" 

It  was  the  test  of  the  afternoon.  Breathlessly  he 
awaited  her  answer.  Whence  came  his  conviction  that 
it  would  be  sincere?  He  had  it.  Lilith  turned  the  ques- 
17 


258  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

tion  in  her  mind.  Her  thoughts  flew  to  Mansfield,  and 
she  shivered ;  to  Dorrington,  and  she  chilled.  She  turned 
to  Chisholm  with  clear  and  candid  eyes.  "  There  isn't 
anyone,  an^^where,  I  would  rather  be  with  than  you," 
she  said. 

Chisholm  drew  a  long,  hard  breath. 

"  I'm  going  on  with  it,"  he  told  himself.  "  If  she 
hadn't  been  the  frankest  little  pagan  that  ever  stepped 
I  wouldn't  have  risked  it;  but  whether  it's  the  truest 
wisdom  or  the  wildest  folly,  anyway  I'm  going  on  with 
it  now." 

The  golden  evening  wore  away.  Many  of  the  rarer 
plants  in  that  rarest  of  gardens  moved  Chisholm  to 
reminiscence,  for  he  had  seen  them  in  their  native  habitat. 
He  had  lived  a  rough  and  eventful  life,  the  possessor 
of  comparative  riches  one  day,  wanting  the  necessaries 
of  life  the  next,  and  Lilith's  questions  were  eager  and  her 
interest  keen.  Would  it  occur  to  her,  Chisholm  asked 
himself  to  try  to  find  out  his  position  from  a  monetary 
point  of  view  now  ?  He  watched  for  suggestion,  leading, 
the  faintest  touch  of  guile,  but  he  did  not  detect  it.  Was 
Lilith's  interest  in  him  bounded  by  the  day,  or  did  she 
really  not  care  whether  or  not  he  were  a  millionaire 
living  for  once  the  life  of  the  simple,  or  a  shopwalker 
out  for  a  holiday  ? 

They  dined  in  the  balcony  of  a  big  hotel,  with  glass 
wind-screens  drawn  between  them  and  the  cool  breeze 
of  evening  and  lights  burning  brightly  here  and  there. 
He  was  guilty  of  a  deliberate  effort  to  impress  in  his 
choice  of  food  and  wines,  but  to  a  baby  a  woollen  ball 
is  a  phenomenon  as  amazing  as  a  war-balloon,  and  to 
Lilith's  inexperience  all  was  alike  wonderful.  Her  child- 
ishness saved  her,  also,  from  any  touch  of  awkward  self- 
consciousness.  She  accepted  suggestions  with  an  utter 
docility,  and  asked  questions  that  brought  a  tender  amuse- 
ment to  his  eyes  with  not  a  trace  of  embarrassment  in  her 
own,  and  her  flushed  riante  little  face  drew  so  much  atten- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  259 

tion  to  the  comer  in  which  they  sat  that  the  subtle  pride 
of  proprietorship  sent  its  own  glow  over  him  before  he 
had  time  to  remember  once  again  that  Lilith  was  seven- 
teen and  he  was  forty.  But  not  until  the  golden  evening 
was  over  and  Lilith  stood  on  the  steps  of  No.  17  Cal- 
thorpe  Road  did  he  refer  to  a  subject  that  had  been  in 
his  mind  more  than  once  that  day. 

"  Lilith,  the  Royal  Academy  is  closed ;  I  thought  you 
would  like  to  know." 

"  Closed !  It  is  gone  ?  "  he  felt  her  hand  thrill  in  his. 
"  You  mean  that  no  one  will  see  it  any  more?  " 

"  No  one  will  see  it  any  more." 

"  Good  night,"  said  Lilith  softly.  "  Oh,  good  night, 
Mr.  Chisholm.     It  has  been  a  lovely  day !  " 

The  glory  of  it  still  trailed  about  her  as  she  ran  up 
to  her  room  and  moved  softly  to  and  fro,  putting  away 
her  little  grey  coat  and  brushing  her  hair  till  every  strand 
stood  away,  alive  and  shining,  from  her  pretty  head. 
Her  mother  heard  her  go  as  she  and  Jane  set  the  supper 
table  downstairs. 

"  'E's  punctual,  I  will  say  that  for  'im,"  she  remarked. 

"  Oo  is  ?  "  asked  Algernon  quickly. 

Mrs.  Somers  smiled  and  sighed  with  an  odd  mixture 
of  pride  and  irritation. 

"  Lilith's  got  a  beau,"  she  said.  "  An'  it's  to  be  'oped 
this  one'U  be  good  enough  for  'er." 

Something  muffled  the  cheerful  clash  of  knives  and 
forks  and  spoons  for  Algernon  after  that.  Jane's  voice 
roused  him  from  a  maze  of  vague  pain. 

"  Don't  you  take  on,  Alg'non,"  she  was  saying,  "  Em's 
a  much  better  girl  than  she  is  when  all's  said  and  done." 

"  Take  on !  "  echoed  Alg'non  wrathfully.  "  Go's  tak- 
ing on,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  not  me.  Why,  I've  been  lighter 
'arted  to-day  than  I've  been  this  six  months.  Made  a 
riddle  this  momin',  first  fur  weeks.  Wot's  the  difference 
between  a  blacksmith  an'  a  doctor?  See  if  you  can  tell 
me  that,  Janey,  my  girl." 


260  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  Why,"  said  Jane,  blushing  a  Httle  at  the  unwonted 
title,  "  I  never  guessed  a  riddle  in  me  life." 

"  Then  I'll  'ave  to  tell  you  this  one,  I'm  sure.  One's 
a  'orse-shooer  and  the  other's  a  cow-shooer.     See !  " 

"  No,"  said  Jane  blankly. 

"  Why,  it's  on  'is  plate,"  returned  Alg'non  with  a 
touch  of  contempt  for  her  obtuseness.  "  Surgeon  and 
ac-cou-shewer ! " 


XXX 


Once  again  life  was  dull  at  17  Calthorpe  Road.  The 
Rev.  Samuel  Loveday  came  no  more  to  dinner  on  Sun- 
days; Sister  Jane,  Sister  Emily,  and  Brother  Algernon 
went  no  more  to  the  little  Way  Street  chapel.  Instead, 
they  attended  the  rather  more  pretentious  building  at  the 
comer  of  their  own  road,  that  had  a  steeple,  and  tried  to 
look  as  much  like  a  church  as  possible,  and  even  bor- 
rowed largely  from  a  liturgy  to  the  faintest  echoes  of 
which  the  frequenters  of  the  little  Way  Street  conventicle 
would  have  been  bitterly  opposed.  Undoubtedly  the 
change  was  good  for  Sister  Jane  and  Sister  Emily  and 
Brother  Algernon.  The  Rev.  Samuel  Loveday  would 
hardly  have  considered  that  the  Rev.  Septimus  Flint 
offered  his  hearers  the  pure  milk  of  the  Word  in  his  ser- 
mons, but  he  could  not  have  denied  his  almost  passionate 
grasp  of  the  fact  of  human  brotherhood.  The  chapel 
was  the  centre  of  a  social  activity  throbbing  with  vivid 
life.  Before  long  it  absorbed  the  entire  household  at  No. 
17.  Algernon,  who  was  found  to  be  the  happy  possessor 
of  a  voice,  went  into  the  choir,  and  poured  out  paeans  of 
mild  patriotism  at  the  re-union  of  Christian  workers  every 
Tuesday.  Jane  and  Emily  took  classes  in  the  Sunday 
school,  and  with  a  fine  energy  made  flannel  shirts  for 
little  heathens  broiling  under  a  tropic  sun.  Even  Mrs. 
Somers  found  the  fortnightly  meetings  for  mothers  in 
Israel  a  welcome  break  in  the  monotony  of  her  days, 
and  threw  herself  with  ardour  into  work-finding  and 
soup-making  and  clothes-mending  for  the  poorer  brethren. 
Only  Lilith  stood  aloof,  prickly  and  irreconcilable. 

"  Yes,  mother ;  if  they  wouldn't  want  me  to  go  to 
chapel  I  would  like  to  help,"  she  explained.  "  But  I 
can't  be  a  half-and-half  Christian ;  Jane  told  me  so  only 

S61 


262  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

this  morning.  I  can't  visit  those  who  are  in  trouble  like 
you  do,  because  I  should  be  expected  to  tell  them  they 
must  come  to  chapel — and  how  can  I  when  I  don't  go 
myself?" 

"  But  you  will,  Lilith,  some  day  ?  " 
"  I'll  never  go  to  chapel  any  more,"  said  Lilith, 
It  was  a  deep-rooted  resolution.  It  was  also  a  de- 
pressing one.  The  endeavour  to  understand  why  this 
should  be  so,  and  her  inclination  to  "  tell  things  "  to  Mr. 
Chisholm  led  to  a  thorough  discussion  of  the  situation 
the  next  time  he  took  her  out. 

For  he  took  her  out  regularly  now.  The  week  that 
passed  without  his  coming  at  least  once  to  Calthorpe 
Road  would  have  been  to  Lilith  blank  and  ununderstand- 
able  indeed.  'Why  he  came  she  did  not  ask  herself.  He 
was  her  friend ;  he  was  fond  of  her ;  he  was  old  enough 
to  be  her  father,  Lilith  did  not  put  these  things  con- 
sciously in  juxtaposition,  but  they  lay  just  below  the  sur- 
face of  her  mind  and  made  everything  simple.  There 
had  been  nothing  in  his  manner  to  startle  or  awaken  her. 
He  was  often  abrupt,  sometimes  a  little  reproving,  and 
Lilith,  assured  always  of  his  affection  though  he  never 
put  it  into  words,  was  docile  as  a  child  to  his  leading,  and 
entirely  at  ease  in  his  hands.  He  saw  her  blindness,  and 
dreaded  unspeakably  the  moment  of  her  enlightenment. 
It  was  bound  to  come;  a  momentary  loss  of  control  on 
his  part,  a  chance  word  from  someone  else,  and  he  would 
stand  revealed  for  what  he  was,  the  lover  prosaic,  middle- 
aged,  almost  ridiculous.  But  that  blasting  revelation  had 
not  come  yet,  and  every  day  gained  was  a  day  gained  for 
the  deepening  of  the  sense  of  dependence  upon  and  trust 
in  him,  for  the  adding  of  the  strand  of  yet  another  happy 
memory  to  the  cord  by  which  he  sought  to  hold  her,  for 
the  strengthening  of  that  subtlest  link  of  all  between 
a  man  and  woman — use.  He  had  sent  her  a  curt  post- 
card, "  Be  ready  at  lo  a.m,  tomorrow,  Wednesday, 
J.  C,"  and  as  he  went  up  the  steps  of  No.  17  with  that 
punctuality  for  which  Mrs.  Somers  so  much  commended 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  263 

him,  though  he  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  Lilith  would 
be  ready  for  him  his  eyes  were  anxious.  His  first  glance 
reassured  him.  No  girl  could  meet  the  man  who  might 
even  possibly  develop  into  a  lover  with  such  a  cloudless 
smile.     His  tone  was  short  from  sheer  satisfaction. 

"  You'll  want  a  warm  wrap  of  some  sort." 

"To-day!" 

"  We're  motoring,"  he  returned — and  Em'ly  heard 
him. 

"  My,  isn't  he  a  toff !  "  was  her  comment. 

"  'E's  a  well-looking  man  enough,"  agreed  Mrs. 
Somers,  "  but  we've  no  call  to  think  'e's  rich,  Em.  Ten 
to  one  'e's  only  'ired  it.  Ef  'e  was  really  rich,  it  stands 
to  reason  'e  wouldn't  come  courtin'  'ere." 

Alg'non  saw  the  big  green  car  flash  by  as  he  piled 
the  bacon  and  tucked  little  crisp  rosettes  of  parsley  among 
the  cheeses  in  Morley's  window,  and  the  realisation  that 
it  was  indeed  Lilith  that  sat  in  it  left  his  forehead  dewy 
and  his  lips  pale. 

"  Is  'e  on  the  square  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  She ! 
She's  always  bin  a  bit  wild;  'er  mother  says  so  'erself. 
But  'im !    Wot's  he  want  with  'er  ?    Is  he  on  the  square  ? 

If  I  thought  'e  wasn't,  I'd Comin',  sir.    An'  wot  for 

you,  miss?"  It  was  the  formula  to  which  his  life  was 
set. 

That  afternoon,  on  a  Surrey  hillside  all  aflush  with 
heather,  with  the  skylarks  singing  madly  overhead  and 
the  landrail  creaking  its  harsh  but  happy  song  of  high 
summer  down  among  the  sedges,  Lilith  sat  and  pondered 
her  problem.  Why  did  she  not  want  to  "  be  good,"  and 
why  was  she  unhappy  because  she  didn't?  It  defied 
solution.  By  and  by,  as  was  her  won't,  she  presented 
it  to  Mr.  Chisholm.  He  pushed  his  cap  back  on  his 
close-cut  dark  hair  and  stared  into  the  golden  distance. 

"  I — ^think  you  have  got  things  a  little  mixed,"  he 
said  presently.  "  To  you,  '  being  good '  means  going 
to  either  church  or  chapel,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Lilith. 


264  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  And  because  you  cannot  find  a  spiritual  home  in 
either  place  you  are  a  forlorn  little  soul  cut  off  from 
Israel  eh?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Lilith  again. 

"  And  so  am  I,  Lilith.  A  heathen  man  and  a  publican, 
outcast  and  reviled.  And  no  one  is  happy  so,  for  no 
man  lives  to  himself  alone.  It's  funny  we  should  feel 
alike,  considering  that  you  are  so  young,  and  I  am — so 
old.  But  it's  because  I  discovered  that  we  did  feel 
alike  that  I   have  let  myself — make  friends  with  you, 

child.     When  I  came  home  from  Australia Shall 

I  tell  you  a  little  about  myself  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Lilith  with  fervour. 

"  I  had  a  good  mother,  Lilith.  She  did  her  best  to 
make  a  Christian  of  me,  and  to  a  certain  extent  she  suc- 
ceeded. But  she  died  while  I  was  yet  in  my  teens.  I  was 
a  headstrong  lad,  and  after  she  had  gone  I  went  a  bit 
wrong,  I'm  afraid.  Nothing  very  serious ;  but  I  wasn't 
as  steady  as  I  might  have  been,  and  the^  old  folks  shook 
their  heads.  I  had  been  apprenticed  to  a  village  carpen- 
ter, but  the  life  was  slow  and  I  had  nothing  to  keep  me 
in  England,  so  before  I  was  twenty  I  ran  away  to  sea. 
It  was  a  dog's  life,  Lilith.  I  left  my  ship  in  Sydney — 
deserted,  you  know — I  told  you  I  wasn't  much  good — 
but  if  you  had  known  what  life  was  like  on  the  ship 
you  wouldn't  blame  me  so  very  much.  I  made  my  way 
up  country,  and  got  a  job  on  a  sheep  farm.  It's  quite 
an  ordinary  history,  isn't  it,  so  far?  I  hadn't  been  on 
the  run  long  when  things  began  to  go  wrong.  Drought, 
of  course.  The  sheep  died  off  in  scores,  and  the  boss 
lost  his  wife.  We  never  knew  quite  what  was  the  matter 
with  her;  she  just  sickened  and  died.  When  his  little 
daughter  sickened,  too,  the  boss  broke  down.  I  had 
a  little  money,  just  about  what  would  get  him  and  the 
kiddie  down  to  Sydney  and  pay  his  passage  home  to 
England.  I  would  have  given  him  the  lot  sooner  than 
he  should  have  lost  the  child,  but  he  wouldn't  have  it  so. 
He  took  me  into  partnership   (I  remember  at  the  time 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  265 

I  thought  it  a  very  barren  honour),  and  left  me  in  a 
waterless  desert  with  a  handful  of  dying-  sheep  and  two 
black  boys.  Things  didn't  get  any  better  after  he  had 
gone.  I  hadn't  the  money  to  buy  a  horse,  even  if  anyone 
near  had  had  one  to  sell,  but,  as  starvation  and  worse 
stared  me  in  the  face  if  I  stayed,  I  cut  the  throats  of  my 
last  few  sheep,  poor  beasts,  and  humped  my  bluey  and 
set  off  to  walk  the  two  hundred  miles  between  me  and 
the  rail  that  would  take  me  into  Sydney.  The  black 
boys  volunteered  to  take  me  from  one  water-hole  to 
another  till  the  worst  of  the  dry  lands  was  behind  me, 
and  to  get  to  the  first  water-hole  we  crossed  a  part  of  the 
run  I  had  not  been  over  before.  I'm  a  bit  of  metal- 
lurgist, and  when  I  noticed  quartz  cropping  out  where  we 
camped  for  the  night,  more  from  habit  than  anything 
else  I  chipped  off  a  bit  or  two  and  put  it  in  my  pocket. 
If  I  hadn't  been  on  my  beam-ends  when  I  got  to  Sydney, 
I  might  never  have  thought  of  those  little  chips  of  quartz 
again.  As  it  was — well,  a  syndicate  bought  the  run  at 
a  good  figure,  and  I — I  had  the  money." 

"  And — the  other  man  ?  " 

"  His  little  girl  died  in  Sydney.  I  couldn't  find  him 
anywhere.  When  I  do,  half  of  what  I  have  is  his,  of 
course." 

"Is  it— much?" 

"  Pretty  fair,"  said  Chisholm  cautiously.  "  But  it 
wasn't  so  much  of  my  life  out  there  I  wanted  to  tell  you, 
Lilith,  as  of  my  life  since  I  came  home.  Out  there,  you 
know,  I'd  had  only  one  book  to  read,  and  that  was  my 
Bible.  My  mother  gave  it  to  me  just  before  she  died, 
and  for  her  sake  I  had  never  parted  with  it.  And  when 
one  reads  one's  Bible  out  there  in  the  wilderness,  with  a 
sky  like  brass  over  one  and  not  a  soul  to  speak  to  but 
blacks,  somehow  it's  a  different  book  from  the  Bible 
one  reads  at  home,  with  church  bells  ringing  round  one 
and  men  paid  to  explain  it  all  their  own  particular  little 
way  on  every  hand.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  Lilith, 
I  read  the  Bible  to  find  out  what  it  really  meant.'' 


^66  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"And  did  you?" 

"  I  found  out — a  good  lot.  I  took  the  thing  for 
what  it  said,  and  not  for  what  someone  else  told  me  it 
intended  to  say.  I  knocked  about  the  world  a  good  bit 
before  I  came  home.  For  one  thing  I  was  always  a 
bit  of  a  rover,  and  for  another  I  was  looking  for  my  old 
boss.  But  I  was  hungry  all  the  while  to  come  home. 
I  was  sure  I  should  find  things  different — and  better — 
than  when  I  went  away.  It's  a  Christian  country,  I  told 
myself.  There  are  good  men  in  it,  heaps  of  'em,  and 
they've  had  twenty  years.  I  came  home,  Lilith,  a  year 
ago  this  month.  Christian  country!  It  isn't  a  decent 
heathen  country !     I  know — ^because  I've  seen  'em." 

"  And  you  were — disappointed  ?  " 

Lilith's  voice  was  very  gentle.  The  grounds  of  his 
disappointment  were  not  quite  clear,  but  the  fact  was 
understandable  enough.  Chisholm  stared  straight  ahead 
and  his  eyes  were  sombre. 

"  I  suppose  I  needn't  have  been,"  he  said.  "  If  I 
had  stopped  to  think  that  if  we  had  only  just  got  as 
far  as  I  could  remember  in  the  two  thousand  years,  pretty 
near,  in  which  men  have  been  trying  to  learn  what  Christ 
really  meant  to  teach  them,  another  twenty  couldn't 
make  so  very  much  difference.  But  twenty  years  is  a 
big  slice  out  of  a  man's  life,  and  I  wanted  progress  that 
I  could  see." 

"  And  there  wasn't  any — in  twenty  years  ?  "  Lilith's 
eyes,  glittering  and  darkening  and  desperately  eager,  drew 
his  to  their  wells  of  liquid  light.  The  sullen  fire  about 
the  man  had  thrilled  her. 

"  Yes,  there  was,"  he  told  her  unexpectedly,  "  plenty. 
Never  be  tempted  to  think  the  world  is  getting  worse, 
because  it  isn't.  There  is  more  genuine  Christianity 
astir  to-day  among  the  mass  of  mankind  than  ever  there 
has  been  yet.  What  one  might  call  unprofessional  Chris- 
tianity, held  and  held  closely  by  men  who  would  never 
dream  of  calling  themselves  Christians.  They  are  doing 
Christ's   work   all    the   same,    though,   but   not    in   the 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  267 

churches ;  there's  no  place  for  them  there.  The  churches 
are  still  at  the  same  old  game — you  must  believe  this  and 
you  mustn't  believe  the  other,  else  you'll  be  everlastingly 
damned.  Your  life  here  is  only  seventy  years,  worse 
luck,  and  your  life  hereafter  will  be  for  ever  and  ever, 
amen.  What  matters  to  you  is  not  what  happens  to  you 
here,  but  what  is  going  to  happen  to  your  hereafter. 
What  you  have  got  to  do  here  is  to  save  your  soul  while 
it  is  yet  to-day.  And  it  will  be  saved  all  right  if  only  you 
believe  the  right  things,  whatever  you  may  happen  to  do. 
I  can't  swallow  that  sort  of  thing,  Lilith,  desperately  as 
I  have  tried.  I  hold  with  those  who  say,  Never  mind 
your  miserable  little  soul ;  leave  it  to  the  God  who  made 
it.  Let  it  be  everlastingly  damned  if  He  likes.  What 
we  have  to  do  here  is  our  Master's  work.  What  we  have 
to  see  to  is  that  this  world  is  the  kind  of  world  He  meant 
it  to  be.  That's  the  way  to  be  happy,  Lilith.  And  it's 
the  only  way." 

"  But  surely  church-people,  and  chapel-people  too,  are 
doing  their  Master's  work,"  said  Lilith.  "  They  think 
they  are." 

"  They  are  to  a  certain  extent,"  agreed  Chisholm. 
"  And,  of  course,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  great  churches, 
the  world  would  have  known  nothing  about  the  work  that 
Christ  came  to  do  at  all.  What  I  complain  of  now,  why 
I  don't  find  myself  at  home  in  them,  is  that  they  are  dissi- 
pating their  energies  on  things  that  no  one  can  be  sure 
about,  things  that  really,  if  one  comes  to  think  about  it 
sensibly,  don't  matter.  Take  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
I  saw  once,  in  the  border  of  an  illuminated  missal,  a  pic- 
ture of  three  men  rising  from  one  enormous  pair  of  jack- 
boots. It  was  drawn  by  a  pious  monk  to  illustrate  the 
Trinity.  How  much  further  has  the  average  man  got 
to-day?  Precious  little.  If  all  the  time  and  all  the 
energy  that  have  been  expended  on  trying  to  make  the 
average  man,  like  me,  understand  the  ununderstandable, 
realise  the  unrealisable,  had  been  expended  on  forcing 
men  to  see  that  if  they  wanted  the  world  to  be  what 


268  TUB  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

Christ  intended  it  to  be  they  would  have  to  change  their 
whole  way  of  thinking  and  living,  we  should  have  got 
a  little  further  on  than  we  are  now.  The  early  Christian 
church,  fresh  from  Christ's  teaching,  saw  things  aright. 
They  taught,  those  first  few  Christians,  that  men  must 
cease  to  be  selfish  and  grasping,  fighting  against  and 
"  besting "  one  another.  They  taught,  those  first  few 
Christians,  that  possessions  didn't  matter,  that  those  who 
had  them  had  better  give  them  away,  tha,t  men  were  to 
make  the  love  of  God  and  of  one  another  the  sole  object 
of  their  lives.  If  the  Christian  churches  had  gone  on 
teaching  that  and  nothing  else  but  that  all  these  years, 
would  England  have  been  what  it  is  to-day?  Instead  of 
which,  what  do  you  see?  Is  it  the  good  man  that  is 
courted  and  honoured?     No;  it's  the  rich  man  always. 

/  know.     Don't  they  come,  kow-towing  to "     "  Me !  " 

he  was  going  to  say,  but  he  checked  himself. 

Lilith  never  noticed  the  break. 

"  Why,  the  word  Christian  nowadays,"  he  went  on 
with  a  trace  of  hurry,  "  is  more  a  reproach  than  an 
honour,  I  knew  a  Chinaman  once,  anxious  to  claim 
brotherhood.  '  I  Clistian  now,'  he  told  me ;  *  I  dlink ;  I 
say  damn ! '  The  very  Kaffirs  have  evolved  a  social  sys- 
tem nearer  to  Christ's  ideal  than  ours.  They  see  the 
Christian  missionary  put  a  fence  of  thorn-bushes  round 
his  plot  of  garden  and  say  *  This  is  mine!'  and  they  go 
in  derision  to  their  chief  and  hold  his  anti-social  selfish- 
ness up  to  scorn.  Heathen !  The  heathen  are  in  many 
ways  a  hundred  times  better  than  we.  We,  in  Christian 
England,  quietly  submit  to  scandals  no  decent  black 
chief  would  sufiFer  among  his  young  men  and  maidens 
for  a  moment.  Then  look  at  our  modem  conditions 
of  employment,  conditions  that  not  one  of  our  churches, 
as  a  body,  ever  even  tries  to  alter.  Even  slavery  was 
better  than  they.  The  slave-holder  was  at  least  bound 
to  see  that  his  slaves  had  sufficient  food  and  decent 
shelter,  and  when  they  got  old  he  wasn't  allowed  to  turn 
them  into  the  streets  to  die.     No,  Lilith !     When  I  see 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  269 

the  churches  using  all  their  influence  and  all  their  time 
and  all  their  money  to  make  human  life  such  as  Christ,  if 
He  came  to  England  to-morrow,  needn't  be  ashamed  to 
see,  then  I'll  join  them,  and  not  before.  And  there  are 
thousands  and  thousands  like  me." 

Lilith  was  silent.  The  indignant  passion  with  which 
Chisholm  had  spoken  had  moved  her  strangely.  Here 
were  things  worth  fighting  for,  worth  living  for,  worth 
dying  for.  All  her  anxiety,  all  her  efforts  for  the  good 
of  her  own  "  miserable  little  soul,"  suddenly  looked 
inexpressibly  small  and  mean.  The  fine  enthusiasm  of 
generous  youth  rang  and  rang  again  in  response  to 
Chisholm's  call  upon  it.  But  his  mood  had  changed. 
Shamed  self-reproach  brought  the  dark  colour  to  his  face. 

"  Pity  I've  nothing  better  to  do  this  glorious  day  than 
shake  a  young  girl's  faith,  isn't  it?"  he  said. 

"  I  hadn't  any,"  returned  Lilith  quickly. 

"  No,  honestly  I  believe  you  hadn't,"  and  his  look 
cleared.  "  So  that  I'm  doing  no  harm,  but  only  good,  in 
trying  to  make  you  see  things  as  I  see  them,  feel  things 
as  I  feel  them.  But  I  don't  want  to  bore  you,  Lilith. 
Are  you  bored  ?  " 

Lilith's  eyes  turned  suddenly  black.  "  Oh,  I  love  to 
hear  you  talk,"  she  said. 

Chisholm  smiled  at  her,  a  quick,  moved  smile.  In- 
stinct had  guided  him  aright,  he  told  himself.  Here, 
indeed,  was  the  ardent,  eager  soul  that  should  respond 
and  understand  and  sympathise,  and  make  of  this  a-little- 
weary  world  what  even  this  a-little-weary  world  might 
be  to  a  man  were  he  assured  of  one  woman's  entire 
loyalty.  His  hand  came  down  close  and  warm  over  hers 
as  it  lay,  softly  curled,  delicately  cool,  on  the  short  thymy 
grass.  She  looked  at  him,  her  eyes  full  of  sweet  ques- 
tioning, but  not  by  a  shade  did  her  girlish  bloom  deepen, 
and  not  by  a  tremor  did  the  little  hand  within  his  own 
answer  to  the  quick  throb  of  his  pulses.  His  face  altered. 
Respond  to  his  teaching,  understand  his  aspirations,  sym- 


270  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

pathise  with  his  aims,  perhaps,  yes.  But  love!  When 
she  was  seventeen  and  he  was  forty! 

"  It  will  be  a  matter  of  time,  of  course,"  he  told  him- 
self. "But  if  I  am  careful  not  to  startle  her!  If  no 
fool  interferes ! " 

Suddenly  his  heart  rose  in  hot  and  futile  rebellion 
against  the  granite  fact  that  she  was  seventeen  and  he 
was  forty.  It  meant  so  much.  It  meant  long  years  of 
iron  repression,  such  as  clouded  his  eyes  and  gave  a  touch 
of  grimness  to  the  lines  of  his  mouth  at  this  moment, 
years  at  the  end  of  which  he  would  be  more  than  forty ! 
But  he  was  not  the  sort  of  man  to  catch  a  wildling  in  a 
trap.  He  would  not,  even  to  himself,  appear  to  snatch 
his  own  joy  from  her  inexperience.  If  Lilith  chose  him 
as  her  lord  it  must  be  as  a  woman  chooses,  with  her 
eyes  open  and  from  among  a  world  of  other  men.  She 
must  be  educated,  travelled,  awake. 

And  if,  after  he  had  educated  and  moulded,  polished 
and  perfected,  she  did  not  so  choose? 

It  was  a  possibility  that  must  be  reckoned  with. 
Well,  as  it  was  there,  the  slenderer  any  other  tie  than 
that  of  her  own  affection  the  better. 

"  If  I  can  lure  my  bonnie  bird  to  my  hand,  I  will," 
he  said,  "  but  there  shall  be  no  jesses  and  no  hood." 

If  only  he  could  count  upon  what  was  on  the  one 
hand  his  ally,  on  the  other  his  enemy — Time !  If  Lilith 
could  be  kept  a  little,  just  a  little  longer  in  her  present 
condition  of  entire  ignorance  and  utter  trust.  He  got 
up  and  held  out  his  hands  towards  her,  but  he  looked 
away. 

"  Come,  child,"  he  said,  almost  brusquely.  "  We  said 
live  o'clock  for  tea — and  here  we  sit." 

The  run  home  was  a  silent  one.  Lilith  was  tired  and 
too  contented  to  talk.  Chisholm,  absorbed  in  his  own 
thoughts,  forgot  to  stop  the  car  at  the  end  of  the  street 
and  it  drew  up  at  the  door.  On  the  steps  he  held  the 
girl's  hand  a  moment  as  he  asked  smilingly  if  the  day 
had  been  a  happy  one.  Then  he  raised  his  cap  and  was 
gone.     Before  Lilith  could  knock,  Em'ly  opened  the  door. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  271 

"  He  doesn't  kiss  you,  then,  Lilith,"  was  her  greeting. 

Lilith's  eyes  opened  and  turned  a  little  frosty. 

"  Kiss  me,"  she  echoed ;  "  he  would  never  dream  of 
such  a  thing." 

"  My,"  returned  Em  with  a  giggle ;  "  I'd  'a  thought 
he'd  'ave  kissed  you  before  now." 

The  suggestion  lay  chill  and  unexplained  in  Lilith's 
mind  as  she  went  upstairs.  She  frowned  a  little  as  she 
folded  her  mother's  fur-lined  cape,  the  clumsy,  shabby, 
eminently  unfashionable  garment  Chisholm  had  chosen 
that  morning  from  the  depressing  selection  of  wraps  pre- 
sented for  his  inspection.  Why  should  Em  think  any- 
thing of  the  sort  ?     What  other  things  was  Em  thinking  ? 

Conversation  ceased  suddenly  as  Lilith  entered  the 
breakfast  room.  Her  eyes,  full  of  sombre  suspicion,  went 
from  one  to  another  of  its  occupants.  What  had  they 
been  saying?     Mrs.  Somers  recovered  herself  first. 

"  Is  that  'is  own  motor-car,  my  dear?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Lilith. 

"  You  don't  know!    'Ave  you  never  astf  " 

"  Why  should  I  ?     It  has  nothing  to  do  with  me." 

"  Nothing  to  do  with  you !  Well,  if  it  'ad  bin  me  I 
should  have  thought  it  'ad  a  good  deal  to  do  with  me," 
returned  Em'ly  tartly. 

"  Let  the  gel  alone,  Em'ly,"  reproved  her  mother,  yet 
it  was  her  mother  who  went  on  with  the  discussion. 

"  I  wonder  what  'e  is  by  trade — 'ow  'e  gets  'is  money  ? 
I'd  'ave  thought  better  of  'im  if  'e'd  told  me  before  now. 
It's  time  'e  did." 

"  Why?  "  demanded  Lilith  breathlessly. 

"  Well,  one  expects  it,"  explained  Mrs.  Somers 
mildly ;  "  leastways,  I  do.  Most  mothers,  when  a  young 
man  comes  courtin'  one  of  'er  gels " 

"Courting!" 

Mrs.  Somers  straightened  her  tired  back. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  take  me  up  that  way,  I  do 
indeed,  Lilith,"  she  remonstrated.  "  It's  most  onpleas- 
ant.  An'  if  'e  isn't  comin'  courtin'  you,  what  is  'e  doin' ! 
That's  what  I'd  like  to  know." 


XXXI 


Tired  as  she  was,  Lilith  slept  little  that  night.  As 
the  broken  planets  still  circle,  forlorn  and  useless,  round 
the  sun,  so  her  broken  dreams  floated  about  her,  a  de- 
lusion and  a  mockery.  The  touch  that  should  transmute 
the  base  metal  of  life  to  gold,  for  Lilith  as  for  other 
girls,  was  always  the  touch  of  a  man,  but  at  seventeen 
the  coming  man  is  always  also  something  of  a  fairy 
prince.  In  Lilith's  case  the  fairy  prince  had  material- 
ised, and  not  into  the  impossible  hero,  subtly  compounded 
of  an  idealised  Ralph  Mansfield  and  a  humanised  Norman 
Dorrington,  she  had  been  vaguely  awaiting,  but  into 
"  Mr.  Chisholm,"  ordinary,  everyday — and  old.  Lilith 
sat  up  in  bed,  her  knees  drawn  up  to  her  chin,  and  her 
arms  folded  tightly  about  them,  and  stared  and  stared 
into  the  darkness  at  her  ruined  dreams.  She  had  lost  so 
much.  Not  only  her  phantom  lover,  but  her  actual  friend 
had  been  snatched  away  from  her  by  that  illuminating 
five  minutes  in  the  bosom  of  her  family.  Ideal,  reality, 
all  were  gone.  The  dawn  found  her  weeping  as  one 
weeps  over  a  grave. 

For  Lilith's  awakening,  if  late,  was  complete.  There 
was  no  hope  of  escape,  no  possibility  of  her  mother's 
having  been  mistaken.  Every  memory  of  every  lovely 
day  spent  at  his  side  revealed  him  to  her.  The  gentle- 
ness of  his  look,  the  tenderness  of  liis  touch,  a  certain 
wistful  quality  of  appeal  in  his  deep  eyes,  she  understood 
it  all. 

"  Oh,"  she  told  herself,  with  tears,  "  everything  is 
spoilt  now,  everything !  " 

For  everything,  of  course,  was  changed.  A  relation- 
ship that  had  been  possible  enough  when  ignorance 
blinded  her,  would  be  quite  impossible  now.  She  did 
272 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  273 

not  even  glance  at  a  future  that  held  "  Mr.  Chisholm  '* 
as  its  central  figure.  The  future  she  cantemplated,  and 
with  tears,  was  one  in  which  he  held  no  place  at  all. 

When  she  came  down  to  breakfast  in  the  morning 
her  mother  regarded  her  pale  face  and  reddened  eyelids 
with  an  odd  mixture  of  exasperation  and  sympathy. 

"  'Tis  a  funny  thing  you  can't  make  yourself  a  bit 
more  contented-like,  Lilith,"  she  said.  "  Most  gels  in 
your  place  'ud  think  they'd  got  all  that  'art  could  wish. 
To  be  sure  'e's  a  good  bit  older  than  you  are,  but  'e's 
a  young  man  yet !  " 

"  Young! "  interrupted  Lilith,  incredulously. 

"  Bless  the  gel !  'E  might  be  Methus'la !  Of  course 
'e's  young!  I  wouldn't  give  'im  a  day  more'n  thirty- 
five!  An'  a  well-growed,  up-standin'  feller  with  a  bit 
of  money  be'ind  'im,  an'  a  gentleman  an'  all.  Why,  you 
ought  to  go  down  on  your  bended  knees  and  thank  Provi- 
dence, that's  what  you  ought  to  do.  'Stid  o'  which  you 
go  about  like  a  wet  hen  in  a  thunder-shower " 

"  Mother,  if  you  would  please  not  say  any  more." 

"  An'  keep  me  fairly  prayin'  all  the  time  that  this  isn't 
goin'  to  be  yet  another  as  isn't  good  enough  for  you " 

"  Mother,  please,"  implored  Lilith,  and  fled. 

The  day  passed  without  further  comment.  Mrs. 
Somers  continued  to  regard  her  difficult  daughter  with 
grieved  reproach,  Em'ly  eyed  her  with  a  dreadful  inter- 
est, Jane  did  not  look  at  her  at  all,  the  defection  of  the 
Rev.  Samuel  had  been  too  bitter.  And  Jane's  attitude 
was  a  grief  to  her.  Sometimes  it  even  banished  from 
her  mind  the  insistent  aching  wonderment  as  to  how  she 
was  going  to  live  her  life  with  "  Mr.  Chisholm !  "  and 
all  that  he  stood  for  cut  out  of  it.  Once  she  tried  to 
soften  Jane. 

"  I  can't  bear  to  be  out  of  friends  with  you,  Jane," 
she  told  her,  "  I  always  liked  you  best.  And  I  didn't 
do  it  on  purpose,  I  didn't  know." 

"  Oh,  you  always  say  that,"  returned  Jane,  with  a 
i8 


274  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

touch  of  weariness.  "  You  say  you  *  didn't  know  '  about 
Mr.  Chisholm,  too." 

"I  didn't!" 

Jane  turned  away  in  scorn. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  think  you  are  going  to  make 
things  better  by  telling  lies,  Lilith.  Most  girls  know, 
soon  enough." 

"  /  didn't,"  reiterated  Lilith,  with  a  touch  of  tragedy. 

A  carriage  drew  up  at  the  door  even  as  Jane,  with 
a  little  more  hauteur  than  her  build  rendered  desirable, 
walked  out  of  the  room.  Lilith  sprang  to  the  window. 
Was  it  Mr.  Chisholm?  But  the  frightened  throbbing 
at  her  heart,  the  quick  drumming  of  her  pulses  ceased. 
It  was  a  lady  in  white.  Someone  quite  young  and  look- 
ing about  her  very  shyly.     Violet! 

Lilith  ran  to  open  the  door,  and  led  her  with  delight 
into  the  black  and  white  sitting-room.  Violet  held  both 
her  hands,  and  laughed  a  little  with  sheer  pleasure. 

"  Oh,  Lilith,  isn't  it  nice,  isn't  it  nice  to  see  you  again! 
Is  this  where  you  live  ?     How  funny !  " 

The  rapture  of  welcome  died  out  in  Lilith's  eyes.  Is 
this  where  you  live?     That  was  what  Cyril  had  said. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  this  is  where  I  live.  Why  is  it 
funny?" 

"  Because  the  '  best  room '  in  my  old  home  was  all 
black  and  white,  like  this,  and  I've  never  seen  one  like 
it  since."  Violet  put  her  arm  round  her  friend,  and  drew 
her  down  on  to  the  slippery  sofa.  "  Lilith,"  with  a  lovely 
blush,  "  I'm  going  to  be  married." 

"Married!" 

"  Yes,  to  Mr.  Wylford." 

For  some  few  minutes  the  two  girls  clung  together 
in  silence,  words  seemed  inadequate.  Then  Violet 
rubbed  away  the  tears  some  unexplained  emotion  had 
brought  to  her  pretty  eyes  and  kissed  Lilith  again. 

"  There's  such  a  lot  to  tell  you  I  hardly  know  where 
to  begin,"  she  said.  "  I  was  up  in  Cumberland,  where 
I  used  to  live,  working  hard — just  like  I  used  to  do. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  275 

picking  fruit  and  boiling  jam  and  milking  cows  and  mak- 
ing hay !     Look  how  brown  my  hands  are  1 " 

"  I  didn't  know  you  ever  worked,"  said  Lilith, 
abruptly. 

"  I !  I  worked  hard — until  Grannie  took  me  to  live 
with  her.  My  cousins  are  all  working  people,  plain 
farmers.  It  was  with  them  I  was  staying  when — when 
Grannie  was  taken  ill  and  Henry  came  for  me.  It  does 
seem  so  strange  to  call  him  Henry,  Lilith.  We  thought 
Grannie  was  dying,  but  she  is  nearly  well  again.  She 
says  she  won't  die  until  she  has  seen  me  married,  but  I 
think  she  is  a  little  afraid,  because  she  is  hurrying  things. 
I  am  to  be  married  a  month  to-day." 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  happy,"  said  Lilith,  slowly. 

"  Happy !  I  can't  help  it.  I  am  so  happy  sometimes 
I  don't  know  how  to  bear  it.  I  have  always  loved  him, 
Lilith,  from  the  first  moment  I  saw  him,  though  he  is 
ever  so  much  older  than  I  am.  He  says  he  has  loved  me, 
too,  though  I  don't  know  why  he  should.  He  says  he 
doesn't  know,  either,  it's  just  that  he  can't  help  it,  and 
that's  the  best  reason  of  all,  isn't  it?  But  I  do  wonder 
sometimes,  because  you  know  I'm  not  a  bit  clever.  I 
often  think  I  shan't  be  much  of  a  companion  for  him. 
I  can  only  love  him — like  a  dog." 

"  Oh,  Violet  I  And  you  are  so  beautiful — and  so 
good !  " 

"  I  may  not  always  be  beautiful — and  I  believe,  really, 
he  would  rather  I  wasn't  what  you  call  good.  But  he 
won't  always  feel  so,  will  he,  Lilith?  He  can't,  if  he 
really  loves  me.  He  is  sure  to  alter — to  please  me,  isn't 
he?  I  will  persuade  him  so  lovingly,  I  will  pray  for  him 
so  earnestly !  One  always  gets  what  one  prays  for  if  one 
prays  earnestly  enough,  doesn't  one  ?  " 

"  But  suppose  you  alter — ^to  please  him  ?  "  suggested 
Lilith. 

"  I  couldn't,"  with  a  startled  flash  in  her  blue  eyes, 
"  he  doesn't  believe  aM3;thing !  " 

"  I — hope  you  will  be  happy,"  said  Lilith,  again. 


276  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  And,  oh,  Lilith,  darling,  I  want  you  to  be  one  of 
my  bridesmaids.  Five  are  promised,  and  I  was  deter- 
mined you  should  be  the  sixth.  Grannie  says  you  are 
not  to  worry  about  your  dress,  she'll  give  you  that.  And 
Henry  is  having  such  pretty  gold  necklets  made  for  the 
bridesmaids,  with  tiny  violets  made  of  amethysts  for 
drops " 

"  I— I  can't !  "  said  Lilith,  blankly. 

"  Can't !  "  echoed  Violet.     "  Why  ?  " 

Lilith  twisted  her  hands  hard  together,  and  sat  staring 
straight  in  front  of  her.  Why?  Because  Cyril  had 
said  she  was  no  fit  companion  for  his  sister,  and  that 
if  she  persisted  in  her  friendship  he  would  give  his  reasons 
for  saying  so.  The  tale,  the  dreadful  tale  of  Ralph 
Mansfield  and  his  betrayal  would  be  told — to  Mr.  Wyl- 
ford,  to  Lady  Wayland,  to  Violet!  No,  not  to  Violet, 
for  she  would  tell  Violet  herself,  would  lay  the  whole 
story  before  her,  and  claim  from  her  the  unquestioning 
acceptance  of  it  she  was  so  blessedly  sure  of  in  Mr.  Chis- 
holm.  Yet  it  was  a  difficult,  almost  an  impossible  story 
to  tell.  Lilith  studied  her  potential  hearer  with  tragic 
eyes.     Violet  gave  her  arm  a  little  shake. 

"  Lilith,  you  frighten  me,"  she  said.  "  Why  can't 
you?" 

The  throb  of  a  motor  broke  across  the  silence.  Lilith 
turned  curiously  white. 

"  It's  Mr.  Chisholm,"  she  said  quietly,  but  she  did 
not  rush  to  meet  him  as  she  would  have  yesterday,  and 
there  was  no  welcome  in  her  frightened  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Chisholm !     Does  he  come  to  see  you  ?  " 

"  Often,"  answered  Lilith,  and  then  he  came  in. 

Both  girls  rose,  but  there  was  no  rapture  of  greeting 
in  Lilith's  face  to-day.  Her  fingers  lay  in  his  trembling 
and  cold,  and  the  blueness  of  her  gaze  shone  frostily. 
He  dropped  her  hand  and  turned  to  Violet. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  demanded. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Violet.  "  I  came  to  ask 
her  to  be  one  of  my  bridesmaids,  and  she  says  she  can't." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  277 

"  I  can't,"  repeated  Lilith,  doggedly,  and  went  and 
stood  by  the  window,  her  back  to  both  her  guests. 

Something  hard  and  cold  seemed  to  loosen  about 
Chisholm's  lungs.  His  breathing  altered  and  his  head 
lifted.     He  understood  the  alteration  in  her  look  now. 

"  She  hasn't  told  you  why  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Was  she  going  to  tell  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Violet  again.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Chis- 
holm,  do  try  to  persuade  her.  She  knows  how  fond  I 
have  always  been  of  her  ever  since  I  knew  her  first. 
And  we  belong  to  the  same  church " 

"  We  don't,"  interrupted  Lilith,  bluntly. 

"  You  see,"  said  Chisholm,  gently,  "  a  good  deal  has 
happened  since  you  have  been  away.  Will  you  leave 
this  to  me.  Miss  Graeme?  If  you  really  want  Lilith 
to  be  one  of  your  bridesmaids  I  think  I  could  persuade 
her  that  she — can." 

"Shall  I  go?  "asked  Violet. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,"  agreed  Chisholm,  smiling. 

The  two  girls  kissed  one  another  and  clung  together 
for  a  moment.  There  was  something  almost  desperate 
in  the  quality  of  Lilith's  hold.  It  filled  Violet  with  vague 
distress.     "  Lilith,  shall  I  go?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Yes,  you  had  better,"  and  Lilith  pushed  her  almost 
brusquely  away. 

Chisholm  opened  the  door  for  her.  He  had  the  qual- 
ity, so  often  developed  by  life  in  the  Colonies,  of  making 
himself  absolutely  at  home  wherever  he  might  happen  to 
be.  He  came  back  to  Lilith,  and  his  quick  glance  at  her 
was  heavy  with  anxiety.  Yesterday  she  would  have 
sprung  to  his  side  and  poured  out  all  her  difficulties.  To- 
day she  shrank  a  little  as  she  leant  against  the  side  of 
the  window  and  said  nothing.  He  put  his  hands  behind 
him  and  regarded  her  sombrely. 

"  I  suppose  we  have — Master  Cyril  to  thank  for  this," 
he  said. 

Lilith  drew  yet  a  little  further  away  from  him. 


278  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  You  know,"  she  said,  under  her  breath.  "  I  told 
you  all  about  it.  You  know  what  he  said  he  would  do. 
Of  course  I  cannot  be  bridesmaid." 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  returned  Chisholm,  bluntly. 
"  A  thing  of  this  sort  is  either  true  or  not.  If  it  isn't 
true  inquiries  can  be  made,  proofs  can  be  brought,  Master 
Cyril's  tongue  can  be  silenced.  Will  you  leave  it  to  me? 
Will  you  let  me  try  to  silence  him  ?  " 

"  You  are  very  good,"  said  Lilith. 

Chisholm  studied  her  with  a  touch  of  woe,  noted  the 
delicious  curve  of  throat  and  chin  and  cheek,  the  bur- 
nished cloud  of  brown  hair,  with  the  sunbeams  caught 
among  its  meshes,  the  delicate  face,  turned  half  away, 
with  already  upon  it  the  shadow  of  a  woman's  grief, — 
and  something  in  the  girlish  grace  of  her  figure,  in  the 
youthfulness  of  her  pose,  struck  him  with  sharp  compunc- 
tion. Involuntarily  he  glanced  at  himself  as  he  stood 
revealed  in  what  Mrs.  Somers  called  "the  mirrow."  A 
man  of  middle  height,  straight  and  square,  with  hair 
greying  at  the  temples,  honest  eyes  and  a  genial  mouth, 
a  man  with  an  earnest  desire  to  do  what  he  conceived  to 
be  his  duty  and  a  clean  record  behind  him,  a  man  who, 
forty  though  he  were,  had  every  right  to  woo.  Ah!  if 
he  could  win  this  little  wild,  free,  feminine  thing,  shy, 
virginal  and  aloof,  half-awake,  and  wholly  adorable,  that 
he  desired  with  every  fibre  of  body  and  soul !  And  here 
he  stood,  the  grim  recipient  of  an  occasional  wide-eyed 
glance  oddly  compounded  of  grief  and  fear.  His  dream 
was  likely  to  remain  one. 

"  Lilith,"  he  said,  presently,  "  this  affair  that  I'm  to 
talk  to  Graeme  about  isn't  all  that's  wrong.  What  is 
— all  the  rest  about  ?  " 

Lilith  said  nothing.  If  she  could  have  nestled  at  his 
side  and  held  his  steady  arm,  poured  out  her  childish  soul 
and  claimed,  undoubting,  his  sympathy  and  his  help — 
as  she  would  have  done  yesterday !  The  tears  gathered 
big  and  bright,  for  her  loss  was  bitter. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  279 

"  Lilith,"  said  Chisholm,  suddenly,  "  has  some  fool — 
has  anyone  been  saying  things  to  you — about  me?" 

She  did  not  answer,  but  the  colour  that  crept  slowly 
up  the  whiteness  of  her  neck  was  answer  enough. 

"  I  thought  someone  had  been  giving  me  away,"  he 
said,  grimly.  "  You  may  as  well  tell  me — what  has  been 
said." 

Still  Lilith  said  nothing.  Chisholm  went  on  with 
some  bitterness. 

"  Not  that  there's  much  need.  I  know  what  people 
are  likely  to  say.  That  no  man  seeks  a  girl's  society 
as  I  seek  yours,  that  no  man  makes  a  girl  his  constant 
companion  as  I  endeavour  to  make  you,  thinks  of  her 
continuously,  does  his  best  to  fill  her  life  completely, — 
that  no  man  has  any  right  to  do  these  things  unless  in 
the  end  he  means  to  marry  her.  And  they  are  justified, 
of  course.  I  do  mean  to  marry  you,  Lilith,  in  the  end. 
But  not  for  years  and  years  yet." 

He  felt,  almost  he  saw,  the  little  shock  of  relief  that 
followed  his  words,  the  lifting  of  the  shadow  in  her  eyes, 
the  lightening  of  the  tension  about  her  lips,  and  he 
laughed  to  hide  from  himself  the  ache  at  his  heart. 

"That's  a  relief,  anyway,  isn't  it?"  he  said.  "And 
you  must  remember,"  he  went  on,  as  Lilith  did  not 
speak,  "  that  I  can't  possibly  marry  you  until  you  say  I 
may.  So  that  there's  nothing  to  be  so  desperately  fright- 
ened about,  is  there  ?  " 

The  corners  of  Lilith's  mouth,  that  had  sought  their 
old  dimples,  drooped  plaintively  again. 

"  It  has  spoilt  things,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  dreadfully." 

"  But  vou  are  not  going  to  break  with  me  over  it,  are 
you,  Lilith?" 

"  I  couldn't  do  that." 

"Couldn't  you?    Why  not." 

"  Because  I  should  be  so  miserable  without  you." 

Chisholm's  eyes  warmed,  that  was  good  hearing. 
Yet  he  was  aware  that  there  was  something  in  the  quality 


280  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

of  the  reply  he  would  have  been  better  pleased  to  be 
without. 

"  Can't  you — forget  it  all  ?  "  he  suggested,  almost 
brusquely,  "  put  it  right  out  of  your  mind,  so  that  we  can 
be  just  as  we  were  before!  " 

But  Lilith  shook  her  head  with  decision,  and  lifted 
tragic  eyes.  Never,  never  again  could  they  be  as  they 
were  before. 

"  I  came,"  he  went  on,  "  to  take  you  out  with  me !  " — 
and  Lilith  realised  suddenly  that  the  big  green  car  still 
throbbed  softly  at  the  door.  "  I  thought  we  would  run 
out  into  Hertfordshire,  and  have  tea  somewhere.  We 
could  have  a  long  evening,  and  be  back  before  dark.  Do 
you  mean  you  would  rather  not  come  ?  Lilith,"  with  sud- 
den dreadful  understanding,  "  you  are  not  afraid  of  me, 
are  you  ?  " 

Lilith  turned  swiftly. 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  you''  she  told  him  with  vehement 
assurance,  "  I'm  only  afraid " 

"  That  I  shall  play  the  lover !  Good  God,  child ! 
While  you  look  at  me  like  that !  " 


XXXII 


"  It's  not  a  friendship  that  I  care  about  for  my 
sister." 

"And  why?" 

The  two  men  had  met  in  Piccadilly,  and  Chisholm 
had  said  so  decidedly  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  him 
that  Graeme  had  had  no  choice  but  to  ask  him  into  his 
club.  The  invitation  had  not  been  willingly  given,  and 
now  Graeme  was  aware  that  he  was  glad  they  were  not 
alone  in  the  lounge.  He  pushed  cigars  and  lights  over 
to  his  companion,  for  he  was  anxious  to  keep  the  con- 
versation friendly  if  he  could.  When  Chisholm  declined 
the  proffered  cigar  he  selected  one  himself  with  some 
deliberation. 

"  That's  surely  a  superfluous  question,"  he  said  pres- 
ently, "  and  you  can  have  no  difficulty  in  answering  it 
for  yourself." 

"  But  I  have  every  difficulty.  The  young  lady  of 
whom  we  are  speaking  has  been  the  victim  of  a  peculiarly 
dastardly  trick.  Fortunately  no  one  is  aware  of  it  except 
myself  and  you.  She  herself  was  not  aware  of  it  until 
you  were  good  enough  to  enlighten  her." 

"  So  she  says." 

Chisholm's  eyes  lit  up,  and  his  mouth  straightened. 

"  May  I  ask  you  to  be  careful  what  you  say  ?  "  he 
returned  with  rather  dangerous  quiet.  "  The  lady  in 
question  is  your  sister's  friend,  and  has  been  asked  to-day 
in  my  presence  to  be  one  of  her  bridesmaids.  You  will 
suggest  any  reason  why  she  should  not  accept  the  invi- 
tation at  your  peril.  You  haven't  only  a  frightened  girl 
to  deal  with  now." 

"  But — but !  "  Graeme's  astonishment,  even  dis- 
may, was  disconcertingly  evident.     He  pushed  back  his 

281 


282  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

chair  and  ran  a  quick  hand  through  his  close-cut  hair. 
"  Look  here,  Chisholm,"  he  said,  "  don't  take  things  like 
that,  too  quickly.  Give  me  five  minutes,  anyhow.  I've  a 
right  to  be  heard,  you  know,  in  defence  of  my  own  posi- 
tion. She  denies  it,  of  course ;  any  girl  would.  He  denies 
it,  too.  The  girl  comes  of  a  respectable  family,  and  he 
must.  Yes,  I  know  him  slightly,  and  we  have  talked  it 
over.  But  I  don't  believe  him.  He's  a  decent  fellow,  not 
in  the  least  likely  to  do  a  caddish  trick  of  that  sort,  and 
the  thing  exists.  No  one  else  can  say  for  certain.  All 
we  can  go  upon  now  is  probability.  Do  you  know  the 
rest  of  the  story  ?  She  was  expelled  from  school  because 
of  it!  No  schoolmistress  goes  to  those  lengths  without 
good  reason.     Her  own  mother " 

Chisholm  rose,  the  more  determinedly  that  her  own 
mother's  words,  "  Lilith,  well,  I'm  afraid  she's  always 
been  a  bit  light-minded !  "  thundered  in  his  ears. 

"  That's  enough,"  he  said  curtly.  *'  You  know,  now, 
how  matters  are.  She  is  your  sister's  sixth  bridesmaid 
at  your  sister's  own  invitation.  If  you  oppose  it  you 
will  have  me  to  reckon  with." 

"You!" 

"  Me.    She  is  going  to  be  my  wife." 

"  You  mean  to  marry " 

"  I've  said  so  once." 

"  Even  though  you  yourself  are  not  sure !  " 

"  Graeme,"  said  Chisholm,  almost  in  a  whisper,  "  I 
shall  knock  you  down  if  you  go  on." 

"  No,  you  won't,"  returned  Graeme  as  low,  "  not  if 
you  are  really  going  to  marry  her.  You  know  better 
for  her  sake.  Don't  be  a  fool,  Chisholm.  Hear  the  truth 
for  once.  You  are  not  sure !  And  as  for  her  being  my 
sister's  bridesmaid,  she  won't.  She  won't  dare  I  I'll 
make  it  the  test  if  you  like,  and  apologise  handsomely 
if  I'm  wrong.    You  won't  accept  it?  " 

"  I  won't  even  discuss  it." 

"  Yet  it  exists." 

"  Not  for  me." 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  283 

"  And  you  won't  shake  hands  with  me  ?  " 

"  I'll  be  a  bit  surer  of  you  first." 

"  Well,"  said  Graeme  to  himself  as  Chisholm  made 
his  way  a  little  doggedly  among  the  chairs,  "  Well! 
Fancy  old  Chisholm  getting  caught  like  that." 

That  afternoon,  in  a  sleepy  backwater  on  the  Thames, 
with  the  still  September  sunshine  falling  sleepily  across 
them,  Chisholm  reopened  the  subject  with  Lilith.  Her 
young  muscles  ached  for  exercise,  and  under  his  tuition 
she  was  becoming  a  quite  respectable  oarswoman.  But 
the  sculls  were  shipped  now ;  Chisholm  had  drawn  the 
boat  by  aid  of  the  dipping  willows  out  of  the  track  of 
passing  craft  and  amongst  the  rustling  lily-pads.  Lilith 
touched  a  cracking  seedpod  with  disdainful  fingers. 

, "  Who  would  ever  think  a  water-lily  could  turn  into 
anything  so  ugly,"  she  said  dreamily,  "  when  one  remem- 
bers what  they  were  like  in  June?  " 

"  It  isn't  ugly,"  returned  Chisholm.  "  It  means  more 
lilies." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  does,  if  the  frogs  and  fishes  don't 
eat  all  the  seeds  before  they  have  a  chance  to  grow. 
Do  frogs  eat  lily  seeds  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Lilith,  what  are  you  going  to  do 
about  Violet  Graeme's  wedding  ?  " 

Lilith's  eyes  widened  woefully.  "  I  can't  go,"  she 
said. 

Chisholm  put  his  arms  behind  his  head  and  studied 
her  sombrely.  The  lines  of  his  shoulders  and  the  muscles 
of  his  powerful  arms  showed  plainly  under  his  flannels. 
His  throat  rose,  sturdy  and  bronzed,  out  of  the  loose 
white  collar,  the  lines  of  his  mouth  were  sweet,  and  his 
eyes  wistful  and  worried,  like  those  of  a  dog  to  whom 
his  master's  intentions  are  vague.  For  the  first  time 
Lilith  was  conscious  of  a  thrill  of  pride  in  her  companion. 
He  looked  so  capable,  so  dependable,  and  so  big. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  can't  go,"  he  said.  "  Violet 
wishes  it,  and  Lady  Wayland  and  Wylford  second  her." 

"  They  wouldn't  if  they  knew." 


284.  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"Knew  what?" 

"  What  Mr.  Graeme  says." 

Chisholm  drew  a  quick  breath,  for  he  was  conscious, 
to  his  own  surprise,  of  relief.  Had  Graeme  influenced 
him?  Had  he,  indeed,  vehemently  as  he  had  repudiated 
the  suggestion,  accepted  Lilith's  presence  at  Violet's 
wedding  as  a  test.  A  test  of  what?  Yet  if  it  were  no 
test  why  should  he  be  so  anxious,  almost  insistent?  As 
he  knew  he  was  going  to  be. 

"  Did  you  tell  Violet  why  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No.    I  was  going  to,  but  you  came  in." 

"  I  wish  I  hadn't,"  under  his  breath.  "  Will  you  tell 
her  some  other  time  ?  " 

"  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  could  now,"  said  Lilith,  looking 
down. 

"  You  are  going  to  leave  it  for  Cyril  to  do  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  he  willf  " 

"  Who  knows ! "  returned  Chisholm  in  Spanish. 
"  And  if  he  does,  Lilith,  why  should  it  be  such  a  des- 
perate matter.  A  thing  of  that  sort  is  a  thing  for  proof, 
not  argument.  I  told  you  so  before,  didn't  I  ?  Suppose 
I  were  to  see  this  young  Mansfield.  What  would  he 
say?" 

Lilith's  eyes  blazed.  "  He  wouldn't  be  wicked 
enough,"  she  began,  and  stopped.  He  had  been  wicked 
enough  to  betray  her  once,  why  not  a  second  time ?  "I 
don't  know,"  she  finished. 

"  How  many  times  were  you  with  him  ?  " 

"  Only  that  once,  just  for  an  hour  or  two.  He  must 
have  finished  my  face  from  memory.    It  wasn't  like  that 

when Oh,  don't  let  us  talk  about  it " — in  desperate 

appeal. 

Chisholm's  eyes  fixed  themselves,  seeing  nothing.  If 
what  Lilith  said  were  correct  it  couldn't  be  true,  there 
hadn't  been  time ! 

"  What  about  that  schoolmistress  woman  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  She  could  say,  surely,  that  it  was  only  the  once." 

"  She  would  say  she  didn't  know.     She  would  think 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  285 

the  worst  of  me !    She  always  thought  the  worst  of  me. 
Oh,  you  won't  tell  her! " 

"  I  won't  tell  anyone,  you  may  be  pretty  sure  of  that." 

"  But  if  she  hears !  If  someone  else  sees  it,  and 
recognises." 

"  Make  yourself  easy.    No  one  can." 

"Why  not?    Where  is  it?" 

"  I've  got  it." 

"Oh,  burn  it,"  said  Lilith  with  tears.  "Will  you, 
Mr.  Chisholm?" 

He  laughed  a  little,  for  the  picture  had  been  bought 
with  a  price. 

"If  you  like,"  he  told  her  curtly.  "  And  now  about 
your  presence  at  this  wedding.  Don't  you  think,  if  you 
won't  go.  Master  Cyril  will  be  justified  in  thinking  that 
it  is  because  you — daren't,  Lilith." 

At  which  Lilith  sat  woefully  silent.  He  saw  the  easy 
droop  of  her  shoulders  alter  and  her  hand  close  hard  on 
the  gunwale;  he  saw  her  small  teeth  set  themselves,  and 
the  colour  drain  slowly,  slowly  out  of  her  face  till  it 
gleamed  white  as  a  cameo  against  the  shimmering  silvery- 
green  of  the  willows.  She  was  nerving  herself  with  an 
effort — it  shocked  him  to  see  with  how  great  an  effort — 
to  give  him  the  assurance  she  felt  he  wanted.  At  last  it 
came. 

"  If  you  think  I  had— better !  " 
'     "  I  am  sure  you  had  better.     And  after  all  I  don't 
see  why  it  should  be  so  great  an  ordeal.    It  matters  very 
little  to  you  what  Cyril  Graeme  chooses  to  believe — 
if " 

Lilith  flashed  round  at  him.  "  It  isn't  what  he  thinks ; 
I  don't  care  what  he  thinks !    It  is  what  he  may — say." 

"  I  don't  think  he  will  say  anything.  I  think  I  can 
promise  you  that." 

"  Oh,  don't  let  us  talk  about  it,"  implored  Lilith 
again. 

Would  she  go  or  not?  The  question  lay  in  the  back 
of  his  mind  all  that  day  and  for  many  days  to  come. 


286  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  I  won't  influence  her,  I'll  go  right  away,"  he  told 
himself.  So,  sending  her  on  a  post-card  a  curt  state- 
ment of  his  intentions,  he  motored  into  Cornwall,  and 
only  Heaven  and  himself  ever  knew  how  hard  it  was 
for  him  to  stay  there.  But  he  spent  three  weeks  in  lone- 
liness and  self-communing  at  Penzance,  and  reached  town 
again  only  the  night  before  Violet's  wedding. 

Even  then  he  kept  away  from  Canonbury,  though 
he  told  himself  that  nothing  he  could  do  now  could 
affect  the  issues  of  the  morrow,  those  issues  that  in  spite 
of  himself  had  grown  to  mean  so  much,  so  very  much,  to 
him.  Neither  did  he  make  any  inquiry  at  Prince's 
Gardens,  or  try  in  any  way  to  lighten  his  own  unen- 
durable suspense.  He  would  go  to  the  church  as  a  guest 
with  the  others.  When  the  wedding  party  arrived  he 
would  know. 

The  church  was  full  when  he  got  there,  heavy  with 
the  scent  of  flowers,  rustling  with  the  frocks  and  frills  of 
a  fashionable  congregation.  Conversation  was  general, 
and  an  occasional  laugh,  oddly  at  variance  with  its  envi- 
ronment, came  lightly  across  it.  The  bridegroom  arrived 
early,  looking  even  paler  and  less  at  ease  than  the  gen- 
erality of  bridegrooms.  The  present  ceremony  was  a 
concession  to  the  fact  that  his  darling  still  groped  among 
the  dim  fogs  of  superstition;  it  went  oddly  against  the 
grain  with  himself.  But  his  first  tentative  and  nervous 
advances  in  the  direction  of  the  legal  ceremony  that  would 
have  more  than  satisfied  him  had  been  met  with  such 
acute  distress,  such  wide-eyed  horror,  that  he  had  yielded 
the  point,  perforce.  The  bride,  after  the  manner  of  brides, 
was  late,  but  at  last  came  the  crunch  of  wheels,  the  eager 
turning  of  heads  one  way,  the  excited  whisper,  "  Here 
she  is !  "  and  Violet,  looking  wraith-like  and  spiritual  in 
her  bridal  white,  came  up  the  aisle  on  Cyril's  arm.  Lady 
Wayland,  majestic  in  lavender  and  lace,  walking  just 
behind  her.  There  were  six  bridesmaids,  six  girlish 
figures  in  simple  gowns  of  white  silk,  with  wreaths  of 
white  violets  on  their  pretty  heads  and  baskets  of  white 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  287 

violets  in  their  pretty  hands.  Was  Lilith  among  them? 
Their  faces  floated  dizzily  before  Chisholm's  eyes,  all 
unfamiliar,  all  strange,  till  a  sudden  blaze  of  welcome  in 
a  pair  of  blue,  blue  eyes  seemed  to  fill  the  church  with 
light.  For  it  was  Lilith,  Lilith  looking  strangely  unfa- 
miliar with  her  hair  arranged  by  a  fashionable  hairdresser 
and  Violet's  name-flowers  lying  softly  thereon  in  place 
of  the  hat  to  which  he  was  accustomed.  Chisholm's  hand 
gripped  hard  on  the  book-rest.  She  was  there,  she  was 
there! 

The  service  went  on  in  ordinary,  irreligious  fashion. 
People  stood  on  seats  to  peep  over  one  another's  heads 
and  hats ;  comment  was  open  and  unashamed.  The  hum 
of  conversation  was  so  continuous  that  little  could  be 
heard  of  what  was  going  on  till  Lady  Wayland  said  very 
loud  and  clear,  "  /  do !  " 

Chisholm  smiled  as  he  heard  it.  The  earlier  genera- 
tion did  not  suffer  from  any  doubt  of  its  own  wisdom. 
Soon,  amazingly  soon,  it  was  over,  and  bride  and  groom 
and  maids  moved  vestrywards.  It  was  done  for  good 
or  ill,  for  weal  or  woe.  Lady  Wayland  had  her  heart's 
desire.  Wylford  and  Violet  were  man  and  wife.  And 
here  beginneth  the  story  of  Violet. 

The  crush  at  Prince's  Gardens  was  great;  it  was 
quite  a  long  time  before  Chisholm  could  make  his  way 
to  where  Violet  stood,  with  Wylford,  a  monument  of 
steady  endurance,  at  her  side,  shaking  hands  with  her 
congratulators.  His  eyes  strayed  from  Violet's  face,  even 
as  he  greeted  her ;  his  ears  were  deaf  to  her  gentle  voice 
as  he  looked  and  looked  again  for  Lilith.  She  was  there, 
just  behind  Violet,  she  and  another  bridesmaid,  opening 
letters,  reading  telegrams,  smiling  and  serene.  Nothing, 
then,  had  occurred  to  distress  her.  Cyril  had  evidently 
accepted  counsels  of  caution.  As  he  watched  her  he  saw 
her  turn  oddly  pale.  There  was  a  telegram  in  her  hands, 
but  she  was  not  waiting  the  moment  in  which  she  might 
show  it  to  the  little  white  bride.    Instead,  she  was  looking 


288  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

about  her  for  someone  else.  Suddenly  she  came  across 
the  room  almost  to  Chisholm's  side. 

"  Lady  Mildred,"  she  said,  "  this  is  for  you.  I  opened 
it  by  mistake.    I'm  so  sorry." 

Chisholm  turned,  for  an  odd  little  smothered  gasp 
reached  his  ear. 

"  What  is  wrong?  "  he  asked  sharply.  Lady  Mildred 
put  the  flimsy  bit  of  pink  paper  into  his  hand. 

"  Dorrington  dangerously  ill.     Can  you  come  ?  " 

Qiisholm  stared  at  the  paper.  Lady  Mildred  stood 
like  one  stunned.  A  hand  slid  through  Chisholm's  arm, 
a  delicate  little  face,  sobered  and  white,  looked  up  at 
him,  an  anxious  voice  was  in  his  ear. 

"  Don't  let  them  tell  Violet  1 "  Lilith  begged. 

"What  will  you  do?"  asked  Chisholm  of  Lady 
Mildred,  and  he  held  the  little  hand  fast. 

The  question  seemed  to  give  her  the  power  to  move. 
A  tingle  of  colour  came  back  to  her  lips.  Her  voice, 
for  all  the  note  of  agony  behind  it,  was  controlled  and 
steady.  "  I  shall  go,  of  course.  I  don't  know  whether 
there  is — anything — that  hears  our  good  prayers,  but — 
something — answers  our  wicked  ones.  I  have  prayed, 
even  I,  that  he  might  be  prevented  from  carrying  out  his 
plans.    I  never  remembered  to  bargain  for  his  safety." 

"  Don't  think  that  sort  of  thing,"  said  Chisholm  with 
rebuke,  though  his  eyes  were  soft  with  pity.  "  It's  folly 
— and  worse.  This  comes  frcwn  Shanghai.  If  you  are 
going " 

"  It  is  well  I  should  go  quickly  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  gravely. 


XXXIII 


The  months  went  by  smoothly  after  Violet's  wedding, 
Chisholm  was  an  occasional,  very  occasional,  visitor  at 
17  Calthorpe  Road,  and  as  Mrs.  Somers  made  no  further 
inquiries  as  to  his  "  intentions,"  she  was,  presumably, 
satisfied  on  the  point.  He  arranged  what  his  prospective 
mother-in-law  called  "  an  outin'  "  for  Lilith  every  now 
and  then,  an  afternoon  drive,  an  occasional  concert ;  some- 
times he  even  took  her  to  the  theatre,  against  which  subtle 
form  of  soul-destruction  Mrs.  Somers,  though  she  might 
protest  in  private,  had  nothing  to  say  in  public,  so  great 
was  her  awe  of  this  new  family  connection.  But  their 
favourite  form  of  enjoyment  was  still  a  run  out  into 
the  sweet  open  country  in  the  big  green  car.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life,  under  his  almost  imperceptible 
tuition,  Lilith,  poor  little  Londoner,  learnt  how  lovely 
the  winter  can  be. 

And  all  this  time  Chisholm  held  to  his  policy  of 
steady  self-repression.  It  was  enough  that  Lilith,  in 
spite  of  the  knowledge  that  had  at  one  time  threatened 
to  wreck  everything,  was  reconciled  to  his  present  place 
in  her  life.  More,  she  even  accepted  quite  tranquilly  his 
expectation  of  holding  a  different  one  in  the  future. 
She  would  marry  him  some  day,  of  course,  but  not  for 
years  and  years  yet.  He  was  her  "  young  man."  Did 
she  not  hear  him  constantly  so  designated  by  her  family ! 
But  it  made  surprisingly  little  difference  to  their  relation- 
ship. She  was  affectionate,  almost  childishly  affectionate, 
in  her  manner  towards  him,  and  so  profound  was  her 
contentment  that  Chisholm,  who  was  not  contented  at  all, 
regarded  it  with  a  depression  he  could  not  hide.  Yet  in 
another  way  it  was  a  satisfaction  to  him.  One  day  in 
March,  when  the  pale  sunshine  of  early  spring  swept 
19  289 


290  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

every  now  and  then  across  a  waking  world,  and  the  wind 
shouted  its  song  of  stern  courage  and  high  endeavour 
through  the  swaying  tree-tops,  that  subtle  satisfaction 
found  words. 

"  I  sometimes  think  you've  got  a  bit  nearer  to  it  lately, 
Lilith,"  he  said,  and  his  eyes  asked  wistfully  for  the 
confirmation  of  his  hope. 

The  girl  stared  at  him,  uncomprehending. 

"  A  little  nearer  to  what  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  To  the  end  of  the  rainbow." 

Lilith's  look  altered.  "  I  am  happy — in  a  way,"  she 
said  gravely ;  "  happier,  certainly,  than  ever  I  was  before. 
But  I'm  not  happy  always,  nor  altogether." 

"  In  short,"  with  a  whimsical  smile,  as  she  hesitated, 
unable  to  put  the  thronging  thoughts  of  youth  into  words, 
"  it's  still  in  the  next  field." 

Lilith's  mouth  curled  up,  and  her  eyes  brightened 
into  half-wistful  fun,  but  she  said  nothing.  Chisholm 
went  on,  "  But  it's  well  to  know  that  it  hasn't  been  swept 
away  altogether.  I  wouldn't  like  to  feel  that  I  had — 
cheated  you." 

"  Cheated  me !    How  ?  " 

He  moved  uneasily. 

"  A  girl  dreams — such  wonderful  things,"  he  said 
with  a  touch  of  grimness.  "  The  lover  who  is  to  make 
all  the  world  smile — for  her — is  such  an  impossible  per- 
son. I  have  never  forgotten  your  saying — once — that 
when  the  lover  comes  he  may  not  be  the  lover  that  a  girl 
expects.  Sometimes,  of  course,  he  is.  But  in  your  case 
he  can't  have  been." 

To  make  a  statement  in  the  hc^e  that  it  will  be  con- 
tradicted is  a  doubtful  experiment.  Lilith's  eyes  held  a 
touch  of  apology. 

"  I  don't  feel  like  that  now,"  she  said  quickly. 

"  Then  you  did  once." 

"  And  when  I  said  that  to  you,"  Lilith  went  on, 
leaving  that  statement  also  uncontradicted,   "  I  wasn't 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  291 

thinking  of  you — ^because  I  didn't  know  about  you — 
then.    I  was  thinking  of  Algernon — and  Mr.  Loveday." 

"  What  has  got  Loveday  ?  "  asked  Chisholm,  grasp- 
ing at  any  reUef  from  his  pain. 

"  I  don't  know.  We  never  see  him  now.  Mother 
says  he  behaved  very  badly  to  Jane — and  Jane  says  it 
was  my  fault.    But  it  wasn't." 

"  Then  you  don't  go  to  chapel  now  ?  " 

"  I  don't  go  anywhere.  And  it  isn't  happy  so.  You 
said  it  wouldn't  be." 

"  But — for  people  like  you  and  me  there  seems  to  be 
nowhere  to  go,"  returned  Chisholm  with  a  touch  of 
gloom.  "  I'm  not,  at  least,  I  don't  think  I  am,  an  irre- 
ligious man.  I  do  my  duty  honestly  as  far  as  I  can  see 
what  my  duty  is.  But  it's  a  lonely  business,  Lilith,  and 
every  now  and  then  I'm  inclined  to  think  it's  a  bit  hope- 
less, too.  What  does  it  amount  to,  what  I  and  those 
like  me  can  do?  Tinkering!  Tinkering,  at  a  system  so 
rotten  that  no  happiness  for  the  world  is  possible  till  it 
is  swept  away  altogether,  a  system  that  has  church  and 
bishops  and  priests  all  at  its  back,  and  yet  is  an  open 
denial  of  Christ  and  His  precepts.  Look  at  the  poverty, 
look  at  the  shame  in  our  great  cities.  Do  you  think,  in 
a  world  that  I  and  those  who  think  with  me  believe  was 
planned  by  God,  that  sort  of  thing  should  be  possible? 
Christ  came  to  show  us  all  the  way  to  Heaven  at  the  long 
last,  perhaps,  but  first  of  all  to  happiness.  Once  men 
have  learnt  to  accept  His  precepts,  He  will  be  indeed 
and  in  quite  a  new  sense  the  Saviour  of  the  World.  If 
we  lived  as  He  bade  us,  could  one  man  own  millions  and 
another  starve  ?  The  necessaries  of  life  are  the  right  of  all 
and  there  is  sufficient  for  all.  Have  you  ever  really 
realised  what  Christ  meant  when,  in  speaking  of  food  and 
clothing.  He  said,  *  Seek  ye  first  the  Kingdom  of  God 
and  His  righteousness  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added 
unto  you.' " 

"  But,"  objected  Lilith,  "  you  have  money,  lots  of 


292  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

money.  I  have  often  thought — when  you  are  talk- 
ing  " 

"  That  I  was  a  bit  inconsistent !  And  suppose  I  gave 
it  all  away,  Lilith.  I  should  simply  be  one  more  miser- 
able poor  man  among  the  other  miserable  poor  men — and 
should  I  have  done  any  good?  Not  one  jot!  No,  as 
things  are  I  prefer  to  talk.  One  can  get  some  folks  to 
listen  if  one  only  talks  loud  enough." 

"  If  I  were  a  man,"  said  Lilith  with  a  touch  of  scorn, 
"  and  felt  as  you  do — I  should  do  more  than  talk." 

"  So  I  do,"  said  Chisholm  quickly ;  "  I  tinker.  I  told 
you  so  before." 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  didn't  know  what  you  meant." 

"Shall  I  show  you?" 

His  voice  was  a  little  uneven,  and  his  eyes  were 
anxious,  desperately,  tenderly  anxious.  Was  this  the 
first  hint  of  her  awakening  to  interest  in  his  life  and  aims, 
or  was  it  simply  the  idle  impulse  of  an  idle  moment  ? 

"  You  can't  now,"  said  Lilith  with  a  little  motion  of 
her  hand  that  embraced  all  the  windswept  and  empty 
landscape. 

It  was  not,  as  he  had  feared,  the  passing  fancy  of  the 
moment.  Lilith  went  back  to  his  offer;  it  had  evidently 
lain  in  her  mind. 

"  You  said — once — that  you  would  show  me  what  you 
are  doing,"  she  said  one  day  when  a  run  through  the 
poorer  parts  of  London,  with  its  evil-faced  loitering  men, 
its  slatternly  women,  its  dirty  children  playing,  and  even 
playing  happily,  at  the  bottom  of  the  abyss  in  which  they 
are  sunk,  had  filled  her  eyes  with  half-frightened  horror. 
"  It's  nice  to  know  that  someone  is  doing  something." 

"  It's  very  little  that  one  man  can  do,"  returned 
Chisholm  with  a  touch  of  gloom,  "  but  no  man  worthy 
the  name  can  live  in  such  a  world  as  this  and  not  try  to 
do  something.  A  good  many  of  us  try  to  do  something. 
The  dwelling-place  of  God  is  still  with  men,  Lilith,  and 
the  proof  of  it  to-day  is  the  desire  for  social  justice,  the 
realisation  of  the  fact  that  men  are  brothers  that  is  heav- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  293 

ing  and  surging  below  the  surface  all  over  the  world. 
But  my  desire  to  do  something  doesn't  run  quite  along 
the  usual  lines,  I  can't  believe  that  the  building  of  mag- 
nificent churches,  in  which  men  gather  to  sing  praises 
to  His  name,  can  be  pleasing  to  God  while  there  is  one 
starving  child  or  one  desolate  and  oppressed  widow  left. 
As  long  as  one  keeps  God  in  His  Heaven,  all's  wrong 
with  the  world,  Lilith.  It's  only  when  one  realises  that 
God  is  among  men  and  working  through  them  that  action 
begins  to  take  the  right  direction.  I'm  not  a  clever  chap ; 
I  never  had  any  education  to  speak  of;  and  if  one  of 
your  religious  fellows  gets  hold  of  me  and  begins  to 
argue,  I'm  stumped  directly.  I  couldn't  tell  even  you 
why  religion,  as  it  is  understood  at  the  present  day,  is 
to  me  a  thing  outside  my  real  life  altogether — worse 
luck  for  me,  I  suppose.  But  I  do  try  to  think  that  if 
God  were  to  take  it  into  His  head — like  He  used  to  do — 
to  walk  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  in — ^the  little  corner 
of  the  world  where  I  happen  to  be  responsible  for  what 
goes  on — I  needn't  be  ashamed  to  meet  Him  there." 

"  Where  are  you — responsible  ?  "  asked  Lilith  with 
kindling  eyes. 

Then  he  took  her — a  long  run  out  in  the  big  green 
car  to  where  a  large  sugar-refining  factory  stood,  not  a 
blot  but  in  its  own  way  a  beauty,  tree-surrounded  and 
flower  engirdled,  in  the  middle  of  a  broad  green  plain. 
Sweet-making  and  biscuit-making  works  flourished  along- 
side, and  the  Esperance  Company  manufactured  its  own 
boxes,  did  its  own  printing,  produced  its  own  electricity, 
even  had  its  own  little  railway  line,  a  busy  and  not  unim- 
portant effluent  to  the  big  system  a  mile  or  two  away. 
Lilith  and  her  companion  signed  their  names  in  a  big 
book,  and  were  duly  conducted  over  that  amazing  hive  of 
industry.  Glances  followed  them,  some  indifferent,  some 
curious,  but  none  with  in  them  any  trace  of  that  awe  that 
generally  sets  apart  "  the  master."  Invitations  to  taste 
were  frequent  and  cordial,  and  always  included  Chisholm. 
Lilith  regarded  him  with  a  touch  of  amusement. 


£94  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  No  one  seems  to  know  you,"  she  whispered. 

"  They  don't,"  returned  Chisholm  quickly.  "I'm  a 
company,"  and  he  bowed,  mock  serious.  "  Now  come 
and  see  the  village." 

Here,  evidently,  lay  his  pride — in  the  pretty  cottages, 
each  with  its  felt  of  garden,  its  spacious  green,  its  cerche 
for  the  babies,  its  school  for  the  bigger  children,  its  wash- 
houses  and  baths  and  bakeries,  its  infirmaries  for  the 
sick,  and  club-houses  for  the  men,  where  they  could 
smoke  their  pipes  and  read  their  papers  and  play  billiards 
and  draughts  and  dominoes  and  cards,  and  drink  their 
beer  and  take  their  wives.  Chisholm  and  Lilith  had 
luncheon  in  one  of  them,  on  the  introduction  of  a  steward 
with  the  button  of  authority  on  his  coat.  Lilith  tasted 
Chisholm's  beer,  which  was  excellent.  The  remembrance 
of  it  was  with  her  in  the  afternoon,  for  the  April  day 
was  warm. 

"  How  do  you  prevent  their  getting  drunk  ? "  she 
asked,  as  they  breasted  a  hillside  a  mile  or  two  away, 
where  gorse  blossomed,  and  linnets,  in  all  the  rosy  flush 
of  their  breeding  bravery,  sang,  and  primroses  peeped 
shyly  round  every  grey  boulder.  And  the  inferno  they 
had  seen  in  the  morning,  lurid  by  contrast,  was  very 
present  to  her  mind. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  answered.  "  For  myself,  I  don't 
prevent  anything.  The  stewards  would  deal  with  that 
sort  of  thing  if  it  arose — ^but  it  doesn't.  I  must  acknowl- 
edge, of  course,  that  we  get  the  best  kind  of  men ;  the 
other  kind  doesn't  care  to  come.  And  I  must  acknowl- 
edge another  thing,  too,  Lilith — a  thing  that  from  the 
financial  point  of  view  condemns  the  whole  experiment. 
All  the  profits  are  swallowed  in  the  upkeep.  I  should  get 
into  trouble  with  the  economists  if  it  were  known.  I'd 
be  accused  of  interfering  with  the  normal  conditions  of 
industry,  and  all  sorts  of  other  dreadful  things.  But 
damn  the  economists.  If  I  choose  to  find  the  money  to 
set  a  thing  of  this  sort  going — and,  after  all,  it's  the 
way  a  thing  of  this  sort  ought  to  go — what  has  it  to  do 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  296 

with  them!  That's  all  I  did,  find  the  money!  And  it 
wasn't  all  my  own  money,  either." 

A  shade  fell  across  his  face,  the  shade  that  any  men- 
tion of  his  old  boss  Taylor,  always  brought  there.  If 
Taylor  came  home,  how  would  he  see  things?  Restitu- 
tion to  Taylor  would  mean  ruin — either  to  his  plans  or 
to  himself.  Lilith,  mounted  on  a  big  grey  boulder,  was 
looking  back  to  where  the  Esperance  Company's  model 
village  clustered  about  its  tree-shaded  green  at  the  side 
of  its  tree-shielded  factory.  Her  hand  lay  lightly  on 
Chisholm's  shoulder  and  her  eyes  were  wide  and  wistful, 
for  she  knew  what  any  resurrection  of  Taylor  would 
mean.  But  no  words  would  come  in  which  her  thronging 
thoughts,  her  sense  of  an  achievement  that  not  even  ruin 
could  entirely  destroy,  might  clothe  itself.  Chisholm 
turned  towards  her,  for  his  eyes,  too,  had  been  looking 
wistfully  back  to  that  tiny  city  on  the  plain. 

"  Come,  child,"  he  said  almost  abruptly,  offering  his 
hands  that  she  might  jump,  baby  fashion,  to  the  short 
grey-green  turf  at  his  side.  Lilith  did  not  take  them. 
A  rush  of  unexplained  feeling  surged  suddenly  up  in 
her  heart,  bringing  the  carmine  to  her  cheeks  and  a 
light  to  her  eyes.  She  laid  both  her  hands  on  his 
shoulders  and  stooped  and  gently  kissed  him. 

That  night,  when  Lilith  reached  home,  an  inexplicable 
sense  of  happenings  greeted  her  on  the  very  doorstep. 
Yet  nothing  was  changed.  Supper  was  laid  as  usual  in 
the  basement  room,  and  Lilith  was  hungry  enough  to 
greet  the  beef  and  pickles  and  bread  and  butter  with  an 
approving  eye.  It  was  the  ordinary,  everyday,  cold-meat 
supper,  she  told  herself;  there  was  not  even  the  handful 
of  flowers  she  sometimes  set  amongst  the  plates  and 
dishes  for  beauty.  Whence,  then,  came  the  still  per- 
sistent sense  of  something  extraordinary  having  shaken 
the  rather  stagnant  air  at  No.  17,  Calthorpe  Road?  All 
was  as  usual  except  Jane.  Jane  had  done  her  hair  differ- 
ently ;  a  little  wave,  to-night,  broke  its  smooth  glossiness. 
She  wore  a  pink  ribbon  under  her  lace  collar,  too,  and 


296  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

the  little  pink  flush  on  her  cheeks  matched  it.  It  carried 
Lilith's  mind  back  to  her  first  Sunday  at  home  after  what 
her  mother  still  referred  to  as  her  "  misfortune,"  the 
morning  she  had  gone  to  chapel  with  Jane  and  seen  for 
the  first  time  the  Rev.  Samuel  Loveday.  But  then  there 
was  a  reason  for  Jane's  looking — so.     To-night 

At  which  point  in  Lilith's  musing  Algernon  came 
in,  and  the  sight  of  him  froze  her  every  idea  into  dumb 
resentment  of  the  fact  of  his  existence. 

And  then  she  awoke  to  the  fact  that  there  was  a 
certain  inexplicable  air  of  something  different  about 
Algernon  also.  His  fair  hair,  still  showing  traces  of 
pomatum,  was  even  more  carefully  brushed  than  usual; 
his  fair  moustache  was  waxed  at  the*  ends,  and  he  wore 
a  lavender  tie.  And  that  he  was  resentfuly  aware  of  the 
fact  that  Lilith  was  studying  him,  endeavouring,  for 
once,  to  interpret  him  aright,  was  clear.  He  shot  her  a 
look  heavy  with  protest,  and  stabbed  a  pickled  walnut 
with  his  fork.  Lilith  withdrew  wonder-widened  eyes 
from  his  face,  and  gave  her  whole  attention  to  her  mother. 

"  It's  like  a  mian,"  that  good  lady  was  saying,  evi- 
dently in  continuation  of  a  tale  that  was  told ;  "  he  learns 
a  bit  of  I-talion,  and  then  he  thinks  he  knows  all  about 
medicine.  I  don't  think  it  ought  to  be  allowed.  Do  you, 
Jane?" 

Jane  looked  slightly  conscious-stricken,  and  the  ready 
acquiescence  that  might  have  hidden  the  fact  that  she  had 
not  been  listening  would  not  come  trippingly  off  so 
honest  a  tongue.  Her  mother  looked  at  her  with  a  hint  of 
astonishment. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you  to-night?  You  baint 
quite  yourself,  my  gel,"  she  said  anxiously.  "  There's 
nothing  wrong,  is  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  mother.  It's — I "  Jane  choked  and  swal- 
lowed and  subsided  into  an  embarrassed  and  blushing 
silence.  Alg'non  coughed  hollowly  behind  his  hand,  and 
sat  up  suddenly  quite  straight  in  his  chair. 

"  May  as  well  tell  you  first  as  last,"  he  said,  and  it 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  297 

was  plain  to  his  arrested  relatives  that  he  was  blushing 
too.     "  Jane  an'  I've  made  it  up,  Aunt  Tilda." 

"  Med  what  up?  "  asked  Aunt  'Tilda  blankly;  "  why, 
I  never  knew  you'd  bin  out  o'  friends." 

"  Nay,  mother;  don't  be  silly,"  said  Jane  with  unusual 
tartness.  "  We've  always  bin  the  best  o'  friends.  I 
should  'a  thought  anybody  could  'a  seen  that." 

"  Well,  I  own  I  should  'a  bin  of  that  opinion  myself," 
returned  Mrs.  Somers  with  mild  bewilderment,  "  and 
that's  why  it  s'prised  me  to  hear  you  say  you'd  med  it 
up." 

"  Seems  I'll  have  to  be  a  bit  plainer,"  remarked 
Alg'non  with  resignation.  "  Me  an'  Jane's  goin*  to  be 
married,  ma.     Now  do  you  understand  ?  " 

The  next  few  moments  was  a  confused  orgie  of 
exclamations  and  kisses.  Lilith  took  an  active  part  in  it, 
her  hands  pressed  hard  together  and  her  eyes  a-shine. 
This  was  a  new  Alg'non,  a  quite  acceptable  and  very 
likeable  Alg'non,  now  that  his  personality  was  no  longer 
distorted  and  blurred  by  a  cloud  of  impossible  aspirations. 
New  pleasantnesses  in  his  face,  new  beauties  in  his  char- 
acter emerged  with  bewildering  rapidity  in  the  sunlight 
of  her  changed  conception.  Everything,  to  Lilith's  happy 
thinking,  made  for  harmony  and  peace.  For  Jane,  now 
that  her  broken  heart  was  in  process  of  being  healed  by 
Alg'non,  must  forgive  her  in  the  matter  of  the  Rev. 
Samuel.    The  one  discordant  note  was  Emily's. 

"  Jane's  got  'im !  Why,  she  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
'erself.  Child-stealing,  that's  what  I  call  it,"  she  said, 
and  left  the  room,  in  grief,  naked  and  unashamed. 

It  was  a  cruel  jibe,  difficult  to  forgive  and  impossible 
to  ignore.  Alg'non's  natural  directness  stood  him  in 
good  stead. 

"  Narsty  thing  to  say,"  he  remarked  presently.  "  I 
knew,  of  course,  she'd  take  it  a  bit  'ard,  but  she's  no  call 
to  be  narsty  over  it.  I  never  give  'er  any  right  to  cherish 
false  'opes ;  it's  a  thing  I  wouldn't  do  with  any  young 
woman.    An'  as  for  Jane's  being  a  bit  older  than  me,  I 


298  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

don't  rightly  know  what  'er  age  is,  but  anyway  she  dcwi't 
look  it,"  with  a  fine  determination  to  be  complimentary. 
"  Made  up  me  mind  some  time  ago,  I  did,  that  Jane  was 
the  wife  for  me.  You  see,  my  year  in  London's  up  now 
an'  more,  an'  father's  feelin'  'is  age  a  bit,  an'  wants  to 
'and  the  shop  over  to  me,  an'  give  'is  'ole  attention  to  'is 
bit  o'  land.  An'  w'en  'e  wrote  to  that  effect  some  little 
time  ago  I  settled  it  with  myself  that  if  Jane  an'  me 
could  make  it  up  together — I  won't  say  as  there's  much 
feelin'  be'ind  it,"  he  went  on  with  cruel  candour,  and  his 
glance,  quickly  averted,  sought  Lilith  for  one  blazing 
moment.  "  That's  all  over  for  me — an'  for  Jane,  too.  No, 
I've  chosen  sensible,  I  have.  Jane'll  make  me  a  good 
wife  an'  work  hard  an'  look  after  my  interests  as  a  wife 
should.    Think  I  carn't  see !    Ho  yes !  " 

It  was  something  of  an  anticlimax.  A  vexed  spot  of 
colour  showed  suddenly  on  Jane's  cheek-bone,  and  even 
Mrs.  Somers  was  conscious  of  a  wish  that  a  wife  might 
teach  Alg'non  in  time  "  to  'ave  a  little  less  to  say."  To 
relax  the  tension  of  the  moment  she  turned  to  her 
youngest. 

"  Lilith,"  she  said,  "  you've  kissed  Jane  as  a  sister 
should,  but  you've  never  kissed  Alg'non." 

Lilith  got  up,  every  trace  of  her  old  dislike  dissolved 
in  the  glow  of  the  new  relationship.  She  went  round 
the  table  to  Alg'non's  side  and  stood  smiling,  cordial 
and  amazingly  acquiescent.  "  I  hope  you  will  be  happy," 
she  said  with  shy  fervour. 

Alg'non  sat  down  again  a  little  suddenly,  for  the 
room  rocked. 

"  I've  kissed  'er  once,"  he  told  himself.  "  I  said  I'd 
kiss  'er  once — an'  I  have." 


XXXIV 


Of  kisses,  as  everyone  knows,  there  is  an  almost 
infinite  variety.  The  kiss  that  Lilith  had  given  her  new 
brother-in-law  was  of  a  quality  not  to  be  mistaken,  but 
what  of  the  kiss  she  had  given  Chisholm  ?  It  had  been  an 
amazement  indeed.  At  the  moment  the  surprise  had 
been  so  great  that  he  had  been  conscious  of  the  sweetness 
only  as  an  aftertaste.    And  what  precisely  did  it  mean  ? 

He  pondered  the  question  during  the  long  run  home, 
it  sat  on  his  pillow  by  night  effectually  banishing  sleep, 
rose  with  him  in  the  morning,  remained  with  him  through 
the  day,  and  for  many  days  to  come.  And  gradually  the 
exaltation  of  that  ecstatic  moment  died,  and  depression 
overwhelmed  him.  Lilith  had  kissed  him  fully,  frankly, 
on  the  lips,  as  a  child  kisses  its  father,  as  a  girl  kisses  a 
dearly  loved  elder  brother,  not  as  a  woman  kisses  the 
man  she  singles  from  the  world.  The  remembrance 
ceased  to  be  a  bliss,  and  became  a  misery  to  him.  If  the 
faintest  ray  of  what  he  longed  to  see  had  dawned  in 
Lilith's  heart  she  could  not  have  kissed  him  so. 

So  that  what  had  seemed  for  the  moment  to  fuse  life 
into  something  radiant  and  new  proved  barren  of  result, 
sterile,  almost  retrogressive.  Something  happened  during 
the  next  week  that  to  Chisholm  proved  the  rightness  of 
his  conclusions,  the  inevitability  of  his  steadily  main- 
tained attitude  of  grave  reserve.  Lilith's  interest  in  his 
schemes  for  the  betterment  of  at  least  a  few  of  his  fellow- 
creatures'  lives  persisted.  What  he  had  thought  at  first 
merely  girlish  curiosity  proved  to  be  the  eager,  intelligent 
interest  of  the  woman  waking  to  the  imperative  needs  of 
a  miserable  world.  He  was  encouraged  to  tell  her  of 
smaller  and  more  tentative  experiments  than  the  Esper- 
ance  Company  and  its  factories: — the  farm,  where  men 

299 


300  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

anxious  for  another  chance  could  train  for  Hfe  in  the 
Colonies  and  be  assisted  to  get  there ;  the  School  of  Dress- 
making, with  its  fund  from  which  girls  on  gaining  cer- 
tificates of  proficiency  might  borrow  the  little  capital 
required  to  start  a  small  business  of  their  own,  even  the 
coffee-stall  run  on  co-operative  lines  outside  the  busy 
gas-works. 

"  It  must  have  taken  a  great  deal  of  money  to  start 
all  this,"  Lilith  remarked  with  a  touch  of  awe. 

"  Yes,  but  it's  only  the  starting,"  he  told  her.  "  All 
that  people,  most  people,  really  want  is  a  start.  Give 
them  that  and  things  run  almost  of  themselves,  like  the 
dressmaking  business  and  the  coffee-stalls." 

"  And  the  Esperance  Company,"  Lilith  reminded  him 
smiling,  for  the  Esperance  Company  was  his  best-loved 
scheme  and  she  divined  it.  "  You  must  have  spent  a 
great  deal  of  money  on  that." 

"  I  did,  and  it  wasn't  all  my  money,  Lilith,  that's 
the  worst  of  it,"  he  said  with  a  touch  of  gloom.  "  I  don't 
know  how  Taylor  will  see  things  if  he  ever  does  turn  up. 
There's  one  other  thing  I'd  like  to  show  you  if  I  could, 
Lilith.  I  always  remembered  Taylor's  poor  little  wife. 
She  was  a  lady,  a  little  delicate  thing  that  ought  never 
to  have  been  stranded  on  an  upcountry  sheep  farm.  She 
died  of  nothing,  I've  aways  said,  but  downright  fatigue. 
Tired  to  death!  And  so  many  women  are  like  her,  just 
tired  out.  I'd  like  to  show  you  what  I've  done  for  a 
few  of  them." 

"  Oh,  tell  me,"  said  Lilith. 

"  It's  only  a  house,"  with  some  embarrassment,  "  quite 
an  ordinary  house  down  by  the  seaside,  nicely  furnished, 
you  know,  and  a  pretty  garden,  and  a  housekeeper  and 
two  maids.  And  when  I  hear,  through  doctors  and 
clergymen  and  that  sort  of  people,  of  women,  ladies, 
that  are  just  tired,  for  life  is  hard  on  women,  Lilith,  well, 
they  come  down  there  and  have  a  good  time  and  a  real 
rest  for  a  bit." 

"  And  they  don't  know  that  you " 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  301 

"  Good  Lord,  no,"  said  Chisholm  with  a  touch  of 
horror. 

'*  I  should  like  to  go  and  see  it,"  with  shining  eyes. 
"  Why  can't  we  ?  " 

"  Because  it's  a  long  way  off.  We  couldn't  get  there 
and  back  in  one  day,  we're  not  man  and  wife,  and  this  is 
a  brutal  world,  Lilith." 

"  Then  let  us  be  married,"  suggested  Lilith  cheer- 
fully. "  Then  we  could  go  anywhere,  wherever  we  liked ; 
couldn't  we  ?  " 

He  turned  sharply  away,  leaning  against  the  side  of 
the  window  and  staring  out,  unseeing,  at  the  spring  dust 
blowing  in  the  Calthorpe  Road. 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about,"  he 
said  almost  roughly. 

The  thought  of  his  activities  remained  with  her,  the 
secrecy  with  which  he  bestowed  benefits,  the  entire  re- 
pression of  his  own  part  in  his  work,  the  touch  of  whim- 
sical horror  with  which  he  shielded  himself  in  the  matter 
of  the  Esperance  Company,  Ltd.,  from  either  praise  or 
blame,  even  lent  a  touch  of  romance  to  his  prosaic  and 
middle-aged  personality.  To  know  that  she  was  asso- 
ciated, ever  so  remotely,  with  even  one  tiny  practical 
effort  for  the  betterment  of  a  weary  world  sent  a  glow 
of  contentment,  satisfaction,  almost  happiness  across  the 
greyness,  or  what  had  been  the  greyness,  of  Lilith's  skies. 
An  ardent  desire  to  be  more  closely  identified  with  his 
experiments  awoke  in  her.    One  day  it  found  words. 

"  I  should  like  to  help,"  she  told  him  shyly.  "  I  don't 
mean  now,  because  I  shouldn't  be  much  use,  but  when 
I'm  older,  and  you  think  I  really  could  do  something." 

He  smiled  at  her,  well  pleased. 

"  Well,  Lilith,"  he  said,  "  you  wanted  to  be  happy, 
and  I've  shown  you  the  only  way.  The  man  who  is  hard 
at  work,  practically  serving  Christ  by  helping  his  people, 
and  any  man  is  serving  Christ  if  that's  what  he  is  doing, 
whether  he  calls  himself  a  Christian  or  he  doesn't ! — may 
not  touch  the  end  of  the  rainbow,  but  anyway  he  knows 


302  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

what  it  is  to  be  in  the  same  field.  But  I  don't  know  yet 
whether  you  really  want  to  help  or  whether  you  only  think 
you  do.  There's  only  one  test  of  sincerity,  and  that's 
sacrifice." 

"  But  I've  nothing  to  sacrifice,"  objected  Lilith. 

"  The  Lord  will  provide,"  returned  Chisholm,  half 
in  jest. 

He  thought  of  his  words  a  few  days  later.  He  came 
to  Calthorpe  Road  quite  abnormally  early  one  morning, 
when  Lilith  was  helping  to  turn  out  the  black  and  white 
parlour.  The  narrow  little  hall  was  full  of  chairs,  the 
carpet  was  up,  the  piano  stood  forlornly  in  the  middle  of 
the  room,  and  dustsheets  covered  the  big  armchairs. 
Lilith,  in  a  big  lilac  overall  and  with  a  duster  tied  over 
her  head,  took  one  of  the  dustsheets  off,  and  asked  him  to 
sit  down,  too  much  impressed  by  the  pale  gravity  of  his 
face  to  apologise  for  his  reception. 

"  Lilith,"  he  said,  without  any  preamble,  "  I  believe 
I've  heard  of  Taylor." 

Lilith  squeezed  the  top  of  her  feather-brush  between 
her  two  hands,  and  gazed  at  him  with  wide,  soft  eyes. 
The  exact  significance  of  his  having  heard  of  Taylor 
was  not  clear  to  her,  but  that  it  signified  a  good  deal 
was. 

"Where?" 

"  In  Australia.  It's  where  he  would  be  likely  to  be, 
you  know." 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  she  asked,  for 
Chisholm  was  a  man  of  action,  and  would  certainly  do 
something. 

"  The  right  thing,"  he  answered  gloomily,  "  though 
I  don't  pretend  it's  easy.  I'll  make  certain  that  it  is  him, 
though,  first." 

"How?" 

"  By  going  to  see,  child." 

"You  are  going  to  Australia?" 

Chisholm  nodded.  Suddenly  Lilith  dropped  on  to  her 
knees  before  him. 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  303 

"  You'll  take  me,"  she  said. 

"  How  can  I  ?  "  he  asked,  with  all  the  irritation  of  a 
man  in  pain. 

"  But,  of  course  you  can,"  Lilith's  eyes  opened  woe- 
fully. "  We  can  be  married  quite  easily,  and  then  we 
can  go  anywhere;  you  said  so  yourself  the  other  day. 
You  won't  marry  me  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Why  not  ? "  and  her  lips  quivered.  Chisholm 
crammed  both  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  sat  back  in  his 
chair,  and  regarded  her. 

"  Because  you  would  hamper  me,'*  he  said  sombrely. 
**  Because  any  man  with  a  job  like  mine  in  front  of  him 
would  be  a  fool  if  he  mixed  a  girl  up  in  it.  There  are 
two  excellent  reasons  for  you,  but  neither  of  them  is 
my  real  one.  My  real  one  is  because  if  I  married  you 
now,  I  should  be  worse  than  a  fool,  I  should  be  a  knave." 

"Would  you?    Why?" 

Chisholm  said  nothing.  Perhaps,  of  all  the  tempta- 
tions he  had  ever  battled  through  in  a  life  that  had  been 
fuller  of  temptation  than  most,  this  was  the  subtlest  and 
the  sorest.  It  pushed  him  almost  to  the  edge  of  his 
resistance. 

"  You  would  like  to  marry  me?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  indeed." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  then  I  shouldn't  be  left  at  home  without 
you,"  and  her  eyes  filled. 

"  Lilith,"  his  hands  closed  hard  on  her  shoulders, 
"  do  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  I'm  very  fond  of  you,"  with  fervour. 

"  Yes,  that  I  don't  doubt.  But  do  you  love  me  as 
a  woman  should  love  the  man  that  will  rule  her  life, 
who  will  be  her  unvarying  companion  day  and  night, 
ez'cry  day  and  every  night,  whose  will  will  often  clash 
with  hers,  and  whose  word,  in  the  end,  will  always  be 
law?  It  takes  a  lot  of  love  to  stand  that  sort  of  thing, 
Lilith.    Have  you  got  it  for  me  ?  " 


804  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Lilith  trembling  a  little,  for 
indeed  he  looked  very  grim,    "  How  am  I  to  know  ?  " 

"  Good  God,  child,  don't  ask  me.  I  thought  every 
woman  knew." 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed  she  doesn't,"  in  desperate  self- justi- 
fication, "  it's  the  most  difficult  thing  in  the  world  to 
find  out." 

"  That  settles  it.  But  I  won't  leave  you  at  home  with- 
out me,  Lilith.  I've  got  quite  a  different  proposal  to 
make.  Lady  Wayland  is  left  a  good  deal  to  herself  since 
Violet  married,  and  she  is  very  lonely." 

"  Is  she  ? "  said  Lilith,  not  immediately  seeing  the 
connection  between  Lady  Wayland's  loneliness  and  her 
own  loss. 

"  She  was  saying  to  me  the  other  day,"  he  went  on, 
"  that  she  wished  she  could  find  some  nice  little  girl  that 
she  liked  to  come  and  live  with  her  and  take  Violet's 
place  as  far  as  possible.  Only  the  mischief  is  she  doesn't 
like  anybody." 

"Doesn't  she?" 

"  But  you,"  amended  Chisholm  with  a  smile.  "  When 
I  got  the  news  last  night,  the  news  that  will  take  me  to 
Australia,  I  went  straight  to  her,"  he  went  on,  as  Lilith 
glowed  at  the  compliment,  not  seeing  whither  it  tended. 
"  I  put  the  dilemma  I  was  in  plainly  before  her,  and  asked 
her  to  help  me  out.  In  short,  Lilith,  she  wants  you  to  go 
and  live  with  her  and  take  Violet's  place,  as  far  as  you 
can,  till  I  get  back  again." 

Lilith  rose  and  stood  a  moment,  both  hands  pressed 
unconsciously  to  the  bosom  of  her  lilac  pinafore. 

"  I  can't,"  she  said  slowly. 

"No?    Why  not?" 

She  answered  nothing.  His  face  darkened  a  little.  It 
was  Cyril,  and  he  knew  it. 

"  You  went  to  the  wedding,"  he  said. 

Lilith  answered  nothing. 

"  I  don't  see  that  his  opinions  need  affect  you  one 
way  or  the  other,"  he  went  on.     "  As  a  matter  of  fact 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  305 

you  will  hardly  see  him.  He  lives  with  the  Wylfords. 
The  old  lady  complains  that  he  never  goes  near  her." 

Still  Lilith  said  nothing.  There  flashed  across  her 
mind  that  if  she  were  at  Prince's  Gardens  "  the  old 
lady  "  might  have  less  cause  to  complain. 

"Don't  you  see,"  he  went  on  presently,  "that  it 
would  be  a  satisfaction  to  me?  You  are  only  a  child, 
seventeen " 

"  Eighteen  nearly,"  amended  Lilith  quickly. 

"  Well,  anyway,  I'm  twenty-three  years  older  than 
you  are,  and  a  bit  of  a  rough  diamond  at  that.  I  daresay 
I  stand  comparison  fairly  well  with  the  men  you  see  now, 
but  do  you  think  I'd  be  willing  to  marry  a  girl  like  you 
when  all  you  know  of  the  world  is  what  you  can  learn 
here?  How  if  you  saw  someone  later  that  you  liked 
better  than  you  like  me  ?  " 

"I  shouldn't!" 

"  How  if  you  reproached  me  later  with  having  taken 
a  mean,  a  base  advantage  of  your  ignorance,  and  snatched 
you  for  myself  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't!  Oh,  don't,  don't  send  me  to  Lady  Way- 
land's.  Take  me  with  you.  I  want  to  go  with  you.  I 
want  to  marry  you." 

The  raised  arms,  the  quivering  scarlet  mouth,  the 
swimming  eyes  were  irresistible.  He  caught  the  little 
figure  in  the  long  lilac  overall  to  him,  and  held  her  hard 
against  his  heart. 

"  Lilith,"  he  groaned,  "  don't  torture  me.  You  don't 
know  what  you  are  doing.  If  I  could  believe,  if  I  dare 
believe  that  you  love  me." 

"  Oh,  I  do,  I  do,"  with  a  storm  of  tears. 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  it.  I'm  a  bounder 
and  a  cad  to  behave  as  I'm  behaving  now,"  for  he  spoke 
with  his  face,  bronzed  and  worn,  laid  against  the  velvet 
of  her  cheek,  "  but  you  were  too  much  for  me,  child. 
And  if  I  believed  ever  so,"  for  one  of  Lilith's  hands  had 
stolen  shyly  about  his  collar,  and  she  was  whispering 
with  her  lips  against  the  rough  tweed  of  his  coat  that 


306  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

indeed  she  did,  she  did  love  him,  "  I  could  not  marry 
you.  What  will  it  mean  if  I  do  find  Taylor,  Lilith?  You 
are  accustomed  to  me  as  a  man  with  money,  but  to  give 
him  what  is  his  will  leave  me  with  nothing.  There'll  be 
no  home  to  take  you  to.  Oh,  Lord,  you  don't  know  the 
Paradise  I've  pictured!  No  income,  no  car!"  vy^ith  a 
whimsical  smile.  "  It  means  just  being  a  workman, 
Lilith,  in  my  own  factory,  working  hard  eight  hours  a 
day,  living  in  a  model  cottage  where  you  would  have  to 
do  your  own  work " 

"  I  wouldn't  mind.    I  like  work.    Look  at  me  now." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  it  for  you,"  with  gloomy  decision. 
"  Of  course,  there's  another  way.  I  could  drop  my 
tinkering." 

He  drew  away  a  little,  reading  her  face  with  sombre 
eyes.  She  looked  up,  a  quick,  almost  frightened,  flash 
in  her  own. 

"  You  mean  give  up  the  Esperance  Company  and  the 
seaside  Home  and  the  coffee-stalls  and  the  Independent 
Dressmakers'  Association  ?    Oh,  you  couldn't  do  that." 

He  gathered  her  close  and  kissed  her,  kissed  her  as 
a  man  kisses  the  woman  that  has  solved  for  him  the 
riddle  of  the  world. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  the  Lord  would  provide  ?  "  he  said, 
and  his  eyes  were  wet. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  And  you  are  right,  I  couldn't,"  he  went  on,  not 
attempting  to  explain.  "  I've  let  people  look  to  me  for 
help,  and  I'd  be  cursed  indeed  if  I  failed  them.  So  I'm 
going  out  to  see  if  the  man  I've  been  told  about  is  Taylor, 
and  if  it  is  I'm  going  to  stand  the  racket.  But  I'm  not 
going  to  take  you,  Lilith." 

He  felt  the  girl  in  his  arms  shiver  as  with  sudden 
cold,  he  saw  the  cheek  that  a  moment  ago  had  glowed 
under  his  kisses  grow  waxen  white  against  the  grey  tweed 
of  his  coat,  but  he  could  not  see  the  sudden  fear  in  her 
wide  eyes,  he  possessed  no  powers  of  discernment  subtle 
enough  to  convey  to  him  the  shock  of  her  fore-knowledge 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  307 

of  surely  coming  woe.  Perhaps,  had  she  been  a  little 
older,  a  little  wiser,  a  little  less  shy,  a  shade  less  pure, 
so  that  she  dare  have  hinted  to  him  just  what  her  fear  of 
Cyril  was!  How  many  men  realise  a  delicate-minded 
girl's  shrinking  even  from  a  thought  that  soils!  In  that 
moment  Lilith  would  rather  have  died  than  that  Chisholm 
should  guess  just  why  she  feared  Cyril. 

"  Lilith,"  he  said  presently,  and  his  voice  was  shaken 
and  low,  "  if  you  love  me,  really  love  me,  do  you  know 
what  you  will  do  ?  " 

Lilith  raised  herself  from  against  him,  and  her  little 
cold  hands  slipped  one  into  each  of  his. 

"  What  you  wish,"  she  said. 


XXXV 


"Auntie  Pat  isn't  coming  down?" 

"No.  She  has  a  headache;  I'm  so  sorry.  She 
thought  that  I " 

LiHth  looked  up,  sweetly  apologetic.  Lady  Mildred 
laughed,  a  hard,  bright,  slightly  supercilious  laugh. 

"  That  you  could  give  a  cup  of  tea  to  anyone  mis- 
guided enough  to  come  for  it  so  vile  a  day?"  and  her 
glance  turned  an  instant  to  where  waves  of  umber- 
coloured  fog  pressed  up  against  the  windows.  "  Is  she 
really  too  ill  for  visitors  ?  " 

"  She  told  me  that  she  would  not  see  anyone." 

"  Especially  me?" 

Lilith  flushed  and  answered  nothing.  A  man-servant 
had  brought  in  tea,  and  was  drawing  the  curtains  over 
the  windows.  Lady  Mildred  sat  down  in  a  low  chair, 
and  the  sable  trappings  of  her  desolation  swept  sombrely 
about  her. 

"  I  had  to  come,"  she  said  presently.  "  I  get  some- 
times— that  I  can't  bear  things — alone." 

"  I  know,"  said  Lilith  softly. 

"  It  has  been  so  horrible,"  Lady  Mildred  strangled 
a  sob  in  her  throat  as  unexpected  as  her  confidence. 
"  And  it  was  so  unnecessary !  It  did  no  good  to  anybody ; 
he  was  just  flung  away  for  an  idea,  a  misconception  of 
truth,  a  wilful  blindness."  Lady  Mildred  rocked  herself 
and  her  teacup  softly  to  and  fro.  "  He  was  so  good, 
and  his  goodness  stultified  everything.  But  he  could 
never  have  made  me  good,  not  after  his  pattern.  He 
couldn't  you,  either,  could  he  ?  " 

"  No,"  agreed  Lilith  softly. 

"  I  never  could  have  pictured  myself  talking  in  this 
way  to  you,  but  I  must  talk  to  somebody." 
808 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  309 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  said  Lilith  again. 

"  Yet  it  isn't  surprising,  really,  that  I  should.  You 
loved  him,  too,  didn't  you  Lilith?" 

"No,"  said  Lilith  with  decision. 

"  No?  You  thought  you  did  at  one  time.  You 
couldn't  hide  it,  you  poor  little  soul." 

"  I  never  did,  never,"  with  passionate  conviction.  "  I 
loved  what  he  stood  for,  never  him." 

"  You  are  very  sure." 

*'  I  am  very  sure." 

"  If  I  could  cry,"  Lady  Mildred  went  on,  dismissing 
the  unimportant  point,  "  if  I  could  mourn  him  sweetly 
— like  other  women,  better  women,  might.  But  I  am 
full  of  rebellion  and  bitterness.  If  it  had  done  any  good 
I  should  feel  different.  But  it  was  so  useless.  And  I 
sent  him,  Lilith.  He  went  because  I  got  between  him 
and  his  God.    And  his  God  has  punished  me." 

"  No,"  said  Lilith  again.  "  I  don't  believe  it.  I 
don't  believe  God  ever  punishes  anybody." 

"  But  I  was  one  too  many  for  them  both,"  with  sud- 
den, almost  shrill  defiance ;  "  I  married  him  and  brought 
him  home,  in  spite  of  his  God." 

"  H'sh,"  said  Lilith  quickly ;  "  that  is  impossible." 

Lady  Mildred  studied  her  curiously  with  dry  bright 
eyes. 

"  How  wonderfully  you  have  developed  during  this 
last  six  months,"  she  said  presently.  "  I  never  saw 
so  amazing  a  change  in  anyone." 

"  I — suppose  I  couldn't  help  it,"  returned  Lilith. 
"  Lady  Wayland  has  been  good  to  me.  I  have  seen 
so  much  and  heard  so  much  and  thought  so  much " 

"  What  will  Auntie  Pat  do  when  you  marry,  for 
you  will  marry  some  day,  of  course  ?  " 

Lilith  said  nothing;  her  sudden  flush  was  answer 
enough. 

"  Soon,  perhaps,"  Lady  Mildred  went  on.  It  was 
a  momentary  relief  from  the  ache  of  her  grief  to  discuss 
something  that  touched  her  real  interest  so  remotely  as 


310  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

this  question  of  Lilith's  marriage.  "  Evidently  it  will 
be  soon.     Who  is  it,  Lilith?     Cyril?  " 

The  name  fell  with  a  shock  upon  the  soft  sympathy 
of  Lilith's  mood.  She  stiffened  under  it  into  the  rigid 
semblance  of  the  girl  she  had  been  a  second  earlier. 

"  Auntie  Pat  says  he  admires  you  awfully.  He  never 
used  to  come  near  the  place,  and  now  it  seems  he  is 
always  here.     She  is  hoping  great  things." 

"Oh,  I  hope  not." 

"  Ah.  Then  it  isn't  Cyril.  But  you  needn't  look  so 
indignant.  Don't  you  know  it's  very  bourgeoise  to  be 
indignant  at  the  suggestion  that  a  man  admires  you? 
Haven't  you  sloughed  Canonbury  yet?  Poor  Cyril. 
Hasn't  he  any  chance?  " 

Lilith  said  nothing.  The  subject  was  distasteful,  for 
which  very  reason  Mildred  Dorrington  found  it  worth 
pursuing. 

"  You  don't  dislike  him,  do  you,  Lilith?  " 

"  Not  now,"  adding  truthfully,  "  I  did  once." 

"  Did  you  ?  Why  ?  But  I  can  guess.  Cyril  can  be 
gallant  at  times." 

"  Don't,  Lady  Mildred." 

"Don't  what?  It  is  no  secret.  Every^one  knows  it 
who  knows  him." 

"  I  don't  wish  to  discuss  it,"  in  scarlet  distress,  "  or 
himw     If  you  think  so  you  are — mistaken." 

That  was  true — of  late.  She  owed  it  to  him  to  say 
so,  to  remind  herself  that  whatever  had  been  his  faults 
of  manner  a  year  ago,  since  she  had  been  under  Lady 
Wayland's  roof  his  behaviour  had  been  irreproachable. 
And  he  resented  her  fear  of  him,  resented  it  so  unmis- 
takably that  gradually  she  was  losing  it. 

She  could  never  like  him,  she  told  herself,  never  en- 
tirely forget,  and  her  very  dislike  of  him  rendered  it  im- 
perative that  she  should  give  him  credit  when  it  was  due. 
For  whatever  his  private  beliefs  might  be,  he  had  not 
obtruded  them  upon  the  peaceful  menage  at  Prince's 
Gardens.     He  might  have  made  her  position  there  intoler- 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  311 

able,  have  even  carried  his  tale  to  17  Calthorpe  Road,  and 
aroused  there  suspicions  that  nothing  could  allay.  In- 
stead of  which,  neither  by  word  nor  look  had  he  ever 
referred  to  a  remembrance  that  lay  sometimes  in  both 
their  minds.  And  Lilith  was  grateful.  He  had  pitied 
her,  he  had  stayed  his  hand — and  she  was  grateful.  But 
she  still  hated  him. 

"  Of  course,"  Lady  Mildred  went  on,  grasping  wearily 
at  the  diversion  of  the  moment,  "  he  isn't  what  anyone 
can  regard  as  a  catch.  You  are  extraordinarily  pretty, 
and  you  will  have — better  chances." 

"  It  isn't  that.  Lady  Mildred." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?  Don't  you  really  care  about 
him  ?     How  do  you  know  ?  " 

How  did  she  know  ?  Involuntarily  Lilith's  hand  went 
to  her  side  that  she  might  feel  the  snap  and  crackle  of 
the  letter  that  lay  under  her  heart,  the  last  of  the  many 
letters,  amazingly  eloquent  when  one  realised  their  brevity, 
that  had  reached  her  at  intervals  during  the  past  six 
months.  And  this,  the  last,  was  the  curtest  and  the  most 
eloquent  of  all. 

"  It  isn't  Taylor.  He's  dead.  God  keep  my  little  girl 
safe  and  well  till  I  can  get  home  again.  Starting  to- 
morrow. Shall  travel  with  all  speed.  Day  and  night  I 
dream  of  your  welcome.     God  keep  you,  my  own." 

That  had  been  written  five  weeks  ago.  Any  day,  now, 
might  bring  the  blessed  assurance  of  his  having  landed, 
of  his  imminent  coming.  In  the  thrill  of  that  blessed 
certainty  the  girl's  whole  being  seemed  to  glow.  Lady 
Mildred  watched  her  curiously. 

"  Is  there  anyone  else  ?  "  she  asked.  A  servant  threw 
open  the  door.     "  Mr.  Graeme,"  he  said. 

Lady  Mildred  lingered,  though  it  was  evident  Cyril 
found  her  an  unwelcome  third.  The  situation  amused 
her  as  far  as  at  present  anything  could.  The  touch  of 
constraint  in  Lilith's  manner,  born,  she  knew,  of  her  own 
recent  suggestions,  Cyril's  almost  angry  recognition  of 
it,  and  quietly  determined  efforts  to  banish  it,  were  worth 


312  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

watching.  There  was,  too,  about  Cyril  something  she 
did  not  quite  understand,  a  touch  of  excitement,  at  times 
almost  uncontrollable  excitement,  for  which  there  seemed 
no  cause — unless 

Was  she  in  his  way?  Had  he  come  prepared  to  put 
his  hopes  to  the  test  this  very  night?  A  rather  belated 
sympathy  with  him  and  what  might  be  his  wishes  at  last 
constrained  her. 

"  I  think  I  will  go  up  and  see  Aunt  Patricia  before 
I  go,"  she  said. 

Upstairs,  shreds  of  what  she  believed  to  be  Cyril's 
romance  still  clung  about  her. 

"  How  it  complicates  existence,  this  business  of  mat- 
ing," she  said  at  last.  "  People  go  out  of  their  way  to 
siettle  for  themselves  the  motif  at  the  back  of  life.  With 
me  it  was  always  the  getting  of  my  own  way  in  every- 
thing ;  with  Norman  " — her  voice  broke  a  little  on  the 
name — "  it  was  the  fashioning  of  souls  for  Heaven ;  with 
Cyril  it  is  quite  frankly  the  gratification  of  the  moment. 
With  Lilith  it  seems  to  be,  lately,  a  passion  for  the  uplift- 
ing of  man  and  the  ameliorating  of  his  most  miserable 
conditions — ^but  really  the  thing  is  much  simpler  than 
that,  isn't  it.  Auntie  Pat  ?  " 

Lady  Wayland  moved  her  head  on  her  pillow,  and  her 
dark  eyes  looked  up,  as  keen  as  ever,  from  the  ivory 
whiteness  of  their  setting. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  I  decline  to  discuss  subjects  of 
that  sort  with  you.  I  am  an  old  woman — ^but  I  have  my 
decencies." 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  going  to  say  anything,  anything  that 
mattered,"  returned  Mildred  laughing,  "  only  that  if  we 
were  all  like  the  angels,  neither  marrying  nor  giving 
in  marriage,  many  schemes  for  the  betterment  of  the 
world  would  succeed  where  now  they  fail.  Body  and 
spirit  clash  so,  don't  they,  Auntie  Pat  ?  One  doesn't  seem 
able  whole-heartedly  to  follow  after  righteousness  until — 

until The  churches  have  recognised  it  for  centuries. 

The  Roman  church  forbids  marriage  to  a  priest,  the 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  313 

Greek  forbids  a  man  to  be  a  priest  until  he  is  married. 
Both  agree  that  the  question  must  be  settled  one  way  or 
the  other  before  a  man  can  be  of  use  in  the  world.  But  if 
the  Almighty  had  seen  fit  to  eliminate  marriage  altogether 
when  He  was  creating  us  all " 

"  Don't  be  silly,  Mildred,"  said  Lady  Wayland  tartly. 

"Well,  of  course,  he  couldn't.  Or  at  least  He 
didn't.  Look  at  Lilith,  now.  I  don't  know  who  has 
been  influencing  her,  but  the  girl  is  on  fire  with  enthusi- 
asm and  hope.  And  her  ideas  are  so  definite.  Her  duty 
towards  God,  as  she  sees  it,  is  so  beautifully  held  in  solu- 
tion in  her  duty  towards  her  neighbour,  her  Christianity 
is  so  practical  and  so  entirely  unhampered  by  creeds  and 
ceremonies ;  she  knows  so  exactly  what  she  wants  to  do, 
and  she  means  so  definitely  to  do  it!  And  what  will 
it  all  come  to — if  she  marries  Cyril  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  the  making  of  him  if  she  did." 

"And  what  about  her?" 

"  Make  yourself  easy — she  won't,"  returned  Lady 
Wayland  with  a  sigh. 

Lady  Mildred  was  considerate  enough  to  leave  the 
house  without  disturbing  the  two  in  the  drawing-room. 
She  would  not  even  fetch  the  muff  she  had  tossed  care- 
lessly aside  as  she  went  in.  She  might  have  spared  her- 
self that  discomfort,  for  her  hands  in  the  brougham  were 
cold  without  it,  and  not  materially  have  jeopardised 
Cyril's  hopes,  for,  in  the  sense  in  which  Aunt  Patricia 
or  Lady  Mildred  would  have  used  the  word,  he  had  none. 
The  conversation  between  the  two  was  of  the  most  ordi- 
nary. Not  until  his  visit  had  been  prolonged  to  its  utmost 
possible  limits  did  he  approach,  even  tentatively,  what 
lay  in  his  mind,  brightening  his  eyes,  shaking  his  pulses, 
giving  to  his  manner  an  unexplained  hint  of  intention, 
evil  intention,  that  suddenly  itensified  Lilith's  dislike  and 
fear  of  him  mto  even  more  than  its  old  intensity.  It  was 
when  he  took  her  hand  to  say  "  Good-by."  He  held  it, 
his  fingers  tightening  unconsciously,  almost  painfully. 

"  Lilith,"  he  said  quietly,  "  he  is  coming  home." 


314  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

"  I  know,"  in  the  sudden  radiance  of  the  recollection 
even  the  fact  that  Cyril  still  held  her  unwilling  hand  was 
forgotten.  And  then  with  a  touch  of  tragedy,  "  Has  he 
written  to  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  heard  it  in  the  city.  He  is  on  the  Auralia, 
isn't  he?  No,  if  he  had  written  to  anyone  he  would 
have  written  to  you,  wouldn't  he  ?  Don't  look  so  repres- 
sive.    He  told  me  himself." 

Lilith  was  silent,  struck  dumb  at  the  unexpected  confi- 
dence.    He  had  told  Cyrilf    Why? 

"  And  I  have  respected  his  confidence,"  with  some 
insistence.  "  Do  me  justice,  Lilith.  Look  back  over  the 
last  six  months  in  which  we  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  one 
another.  Have  I  ever,  by  a  word,  overstepped  the  line? 
You  have  always,  to  me,  been  practically  the  wife  of 
another  man.  Have  I  ever  given  you  reason  to  think 
I  forgot  it?" 

Lilith  looked  down.  Arraigned  at  the  bar  of  her 
memories  he  should  have  stood  absolved,  for  of  words 
he  had,  even  as  he  claimed,  said  none.  Yet  there  was 
always  about  him  a  subtle  something  that  had  seemed  to 
justify  her  undeniable  fear  of  him,  distrust  of  him.  It 
kept  her  silent  now,  and  unresponsive  and  coldly  with- 
drawn.    Cyril's  hold  of  her  hand  tightened. 

"  You  are  unjust,"  he  said,  "  and  I  didn't  expect  it 
of  you.     Give  credit  where  credit  is  due,  Lilith." 

Lilith  looked  up,  her  eyes  dark  with  uncertainty  and 
distress. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  almost  childishly,  "  you  may  be — 
different.  I  may — misjudge  you.  I  don't  know.  I  don't 
want  to  be — unkind." 

"  Then  prove  it,"  with  sudden  fire.  "  If  I  come  to 
vou — ^in  a  day  or  two — and  show  you  how,  will  you, 
Lilith?" 

"  If  I  can,"  she  answered  gently. 


XXXVI 


Five  days  later  he  claimed  her  promise.  He  drove 
up  to  Prince's  Gardens  in  a  hansom,  and  Lilith,  break- 
fasting alone,  ran  to  the  window  at  sound  of  the  early 
wheels.  She  was  vaguely  aware,  before  ever  he  entered 
the  house,  of  the  touch  of  almost  painful  excitement  in 
his  manner.  His  first  words  accounted  for  it  in  part. 
Lilith  felt  that  it  was  only  in  part. 

"  Lilith,  the  Auralia  will  be  in  to-day.  Did  you 
know?" 

"  No ! "  Lilith's  one  word  was  breathless  as  she 
gazed  at  him  with  darkening  eyes.  "  How  did  yoti 
know  ?    Has  he  telegraphed  ?  " 

"  He  hasn't  had  a  chance,  yet.  I  heard  it  first  thing 
this  morning  in  the  city.  Those  big  boats  are  always 
anxiously  awaited.  She  carries  the  mail,  you  know. 
Lilith,  I  want  you  to  let  me  take  you  down  to  Southamp- 
ton to  meet  him," 

The  girl  drew  sharply  back.  Her  recoil  was  unmis- 
takable. 

"I — I — Oh,  do  you  think  he  would  like  it?"  she 
faltered.  "  Wouldn't  he  rather — 'if  he  had  wanted 
me 

"Do  you  think  he  doesn't  want  you?  Put  yourself 
in  his  place.  Which  would  you  rather  he  should  do  if 
you  had  been  away  six  long  months.  Or  it  is  that  you 
don't  want  me  ?    That  you  would  rather  go  alone  ?  " 

"Oh,  no,"  in  rather  faint  protest. 

"You  think,"  his  words  caught  and  tripped  a  little 
but  he  steadied  his  hurrying  tongue,  "  you  think  I  shall 
be  in  the  way ;  that  the  meeting,  with  me  there,  won't  be 
quite  what  you  have  pictured  it?  Is  that  it?  But  I  can 
eliminate  myself,     I  know,  no  one  better,  when  I  am 

313 


316  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

the  one-too-many."  Lilith  looked  up  with  a  shade  of 
wonder  at  his  insistence.  Why  should  he  be  so  anxious, 
so  determined  to  carry  his  point !  "  I'll  attach  myself 
to  Violet's  entourage.     She'll  be  there,  you  know." 

Lilith's  face  altered  into  sudden  radiant  response. 
Violet  would  be  there !  It  changed  and  simplified  every- 
thing-. 

"  Didn't  you  know?  How  stupid  of  me ;  how  are 
you  to  know  when  I  have  never  given  you  her  letter. 
There,"  his  smile  fading  into  an  expression  of  acute 
vexation  more  in  keeping  with  something  hurried,  ner- 
vous, almost  agitated  in  his  manner,  I  haven't  her 
letter.  But  it  doesn't  matter;  I  can  tell  you  all  she 
said.  If  we  can  catch  the  10.40  from  Paddington  we 
may  travel  down  together.  Well,  Lilith,  are  you  coming, 
or  do  you  refuse  my  escort  even  as  far  as  Paddington  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Graeme,  of  course,  of  course  I  am  coming. 
But  I  must  tell  Lady  Wayland." 

"  I  wouldn't.  She'll  be  asleep ;  you  know  how  she 
hates  to  be  disturbed  first  thing  in  the  morning.  Sit 
down  and  write  a  little  note,  and  I'll  give  it  to  Waters 
to  give  her  as  soon  as  she  wakes.  Just  write  "  Gone 
down  to  Southampton  with  Mr.  Graeme  to  meet  the 
boat."  She  will  understand.  And  you  had  better  put 
what  you  will  want  for  the  night  into  a  bag,  Lilith. 
Boats  are  sometimes  hours  after  their  time,  and  we  might 
all  have  to  stay  there  till  to-morrow.  Be  as  quick  as  you 
can,  the  cab  is  waiting.  I'll  give  this  to  Waters  while 
you  are  gone." 

Quick!  There  was  no  need  to  tell  Lilith  to  be 
quick.  Her  feet  were  scarcely  conscious  of  the  floor  as 
she  moved  about  her  bedroom  filling  her  yawning  bag 
with  hastily-snatched  necessaries,  choosing  her  prettiest 
hat,  her  daintiest  gloves,  her  handsomest  furs,  for  Lady 
Wayland  was  generous  to  her  little  protege.  She  tip- 
toed lightly  past  Lady  Wayland's  door ;  she  hated  to  be 
awakened  early  in  the  morning,  even  as  Cyril  said.     As 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  317 

the  hansom  bowled  smoothly  along  the  Marylebone  Road 
she  turned  to  Cyril  with  a  start  of  recollection. 

"  You  g-ave  my  letter  to  Waters  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right." 

His  tone  was  curt  and  he  gave  no  further  assurance. 
Something  a  little  unusual  in  his  manner  struck  Lilith 
for  the  second  time  that  morning.  His  face  was  pale 
and  his  eyes  glittered  oddly.  The  arm  with  which 
she  could  not  avoid  contact  as  she  sat  by  his  side  trembled 
perceptibly.  He  was  evidently  labouring  under  strong 
excitement  with  difficulty  repressed.     Why? 

When  they  reached  Paddington  he  handed  her  out  of 
the  cab  and  would  have  taken  her  straight  through  on 
to  the  platform,  but  Lilith  hesitated. 

"  Mustn't  we  get  our  tickets  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  have  them.  I  was  sure  you  would  come,  you 
know." 

It  was  a  little  thing,  but  it  was  enough.  There  had 
been  other  little  things — and  his  look  was  by  turns  hungry 
and  furtive,  his  hand,  as  he  held  hers,  g^reedy  and  cruel. 
Lilith  was  suddenly  conscious  of  terror,  causeless  but 
deadly,  terror  that  sent  her  young  blood  thundering  back, 
thick  and  cold,  upon  her  heart,  terror  that  turned  the 
great  station  black  before  her  eyes  and  left  her  standing 
rigid,  immovable,  her  feet  glued  to  the  rocking  asphalt. 
Cyril  took  hold  of  her  arm  with  something  of  compulsion. 

"Come  along,"  he  said  almost  sharply,  "we  have 
only  just  time." 

"WTiere— is  Violet?" 

"  Already  seated,  I  expect.  Come  along,  Lilith.  We 
sliall  miss  it.  There's  only  one  minute,  and  it  won't 
wait  for  us." 

But  Lilith  did  not  move.  Sickening  suspicion  had 
swept  over  her,  none  the  less  awful  that  it  was  vague. 
She  summoned  all  her  resolution,  and  faced  him  with 
wide,  bright  eyes. 

"  I'm — not  going,"  she  said  breathlessly,  and  then,  a 
sudden  inexplicable  radiance  of  relief  breaking  like  light 


318  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

across  her  face,  she  twitched  her  arm  away  from  his 
hold  and  ran. 

But  not  out  of  the  station.  A  man  in  a  long  ulster, 
with  well-squared  shoulders  and  a  square,  bronzed  face, 
his  chin  thrust  forward  and  the  gay  fringes  of  his  travel- 
ling rug  floating  out  on  the  wind  behind,  was  pushing 
his  way  through  the  crowd.  Lilith  darted  after  him. 
"Oh,  it  was -true,  it  was  true,"  she  half  sobbed  as  she 
ran,  and  the  next  moment  she  had  caught  the  big  man 
by  the  arm  and  was  looking  up  at  him  with  April  eyes. 

"  Oh,  you  have  come,  you  have  come,"  she  told  him. 
"  Mr.  Graeme  and  I  were  going  down  to  Southampton 
to  meet  you,  and  you're  here !  " 

The  rapture  died  suddenly  out  of  his  tired  face  and 
left  it  blank  and  empty. 

"  I  have  come,  evidently,"  he  remarked,  adding  after 
a  moment's  profound  stillness.  "  Where  did  you  say 
you  and  Mr.  Graeme  were  going?" 

"  To  Southampton — to  meet  you."  Her  voice  faltered 
and  broke.  The  chill  of  her  but  just  banished  terror  was 
creeping  back,  and  with  it  a  sense  of  intolerable  woe. 
They  had  dreamt  for  long  months  of  their  meeting,  and 
this  was  it.  The  murk  of  the  London  skies  seemed  to 
close  round  them.  Was  it  that  that  made  his  face  so 
grey? 

"  To  Southampton !  Why  should  you  go  to  South- 
ampton? I've  just  come  up  from  Plymouth.  The  boat 
doesn't  go  to  Southampton  at  all.  It's  not  due  in  London 
till  to-morrow." 

"  Mr.  Graeme  said " 

She  stopped.  A  sudden  conviction  of  guilt,  Cyril's 
guilt,  blurred  her  look.  Chisholm  recognised  the  guilt, 
and  had  no  sense  subtle  enough  to  tell  him  it  was  Cyril's. 
It  was  as  though  a  dulling  hand  had  passed  over  her, 
wiping  out  for  him  her  beauty,  killing,  for  him,  all  joy. 
He  dropped  her  hand,  staring  blankly  at  her. 

"  Where  is  he?  "  he  asked. 

Lilith    glanced    behind    her.     Cyril    had    stood    his 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  319 

ground.  He  was  where  she  had  left  him,  her  bag  in 
his  hand.  Chisholm  strode  over  to  him,  and  Lilith,  her 
feet  dragging  a  little,  followed  him. 

"  You'll  be  good  enough  to  explain  the  situation." 

Graeme  raised  his  eyebrows.  His  expression  was 
faintly  amused. 

"  I  should  imagine  it  explains  itself,"  he  said. 

Chisholm  turned  to  the  girl  standing  faint  and  fright- 
ened, though  of  what,  as  yet,  she  scarcely  knew,  at  his 
side,  and  his  deep  eyes  were  filled  with  the  agonised 
straining  of  one  who  tries  in  vain  to  read  another's  soul. 
His  glance  went  heavily  back  to  Cyril's,  and  the  two  men 
stood  absorbed  in  a  duel  the  more  sinister  that  it  was 
silent.     At  last  he  spoke. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Graeme?  " 

Graeme  shrugged  his  shoulders  very  slightly  and 
said  nothing.  He  was  fighting  for  his  life  and  he  knew 
it.  Chisholm  spoke  again,  answering  with  an  effort 
something  in  Graeme's  look. 

"  She  told  me — herself.     She  needn't  have  done  that." 

"  She  is  clever.  There  was  only  one  way  out  of  the 
difficulty,  and  she  was  quick  to  take  it.  We  were  going 
over  to  Havre  by  the  afternoon  boat.  We  should  have 
been  in  Paris  to-morrow.  Don't  be  a  fool,  Chisholm. 
You  have  never  been  quite  sure  of  her.  You  know  it 
yourself." 

It  was  true.  His  imagination,  poisoned  by  the  evil 
in  an  evil  world,  had  found  an  absolute  innocence  difficult 
to  accept.  Passionately  as  he  had  loved  her,  profoundly 
as  he  had  at  times  believed  in  her,  there  had  been  other 
times  when  the  suggestion  of  circumstances  had  been 
ahmost  too  much  for  his  faith,  when  her  own  mother's 
depressed  "  Lilith !  well,  she's  always  been  a  bit  light- 
minded  !  "  had  thundered  in  his  ears.    And  now — this  I 

He  stood,  his  face  working,  a  prey  to  hideous  misgiv- 
ing, a  man  shaken  to  his  soul  with  doubt,  and  at  his  side 
a  delicate  little  face  gleamed  up  through  the  shadows, 
stricken  with  a  dreadful  understanding,  white  with  in- 


320  THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 

tolerable  woe.  He  had  never  been  quite  sure  of  her! 
Alas,  it  was  written  on  his  face.  He  never  had  been! 
He  never  would  be !  Like  a  lightning  flash,  Lilith's  recol- 
lection leapt  back  to  the  beginning  of  things,  that  idyllic 
afternoon,  blameless  in  intention  and  in  fact,  she  had  spent 
with  Ralph  Mansfield  in  the  studio  that  had  once  been 
a  loft.  Was  the  shadow,  not  of  the  thing  that  had  hap- 
pened but  of  the  world's  reading  of  the  thing  that  had 
happened,  to  lie  over  her  life  for  ever,  darkening  the 
sun,  dimming  even  such  love  as  Chisholm's  ?  The  results 
of  actions,  innocent  and  guilty  alike,  are  fastened,  alba- 
tross-like, about  our  necks;  but  caught  in  the  meshes 
of  inexorable  law,  Lilith  struggled  as  frantically  as  the 
rest  of  us.  Her  hands  closed  tightly,  almost  desperately, 
on  Chisholm's  arm.  Her  eyes,  wide  and  bright  and 
cold  with  the  horrible  possibility  of  unbelievable  ill,  drew 
to  them  even  his  reluctant  look. 

"  Do  you  believe  it?  " 

The  dullest  of  us  have  our  moments  of  intuition,  the 
blindest  among  us  can  see  men  "  as  trees  walking " 
sometimes.  One  such  moment  was  Chisholm's  now ; 
a  ray  of  Heaven's  own  truth  suffused  his  soul,  dispelling 
the  obsession  of  Cyril's  suggestion,  piercing  through  even 
the  mists  of  a  man's  ingrained  suspicion.  But  it  did  not 
light  him  at  once  to  certainty. 

"Is  it  a  lie?"  he  asked. 

The  girl  never  spoke.  He  needed  proof.  Proof! 
Death  itself  could  hold  nothing  bitterer  for  Lilith  than 
the  moment  in  which  she  realised  that.  But  a  man's 
faith  in  a  woman,  like  his  faith  in  God,  does  not  rest 
upon  proof;  its  foundations  lie  within  himself,  and  that 
so  deep  that  even  speculation  as  to  their  essence  is  idle. 
Even  with  her  silence  crying  in  his  ears  he  spoke  again, 
and  there  was  in  his  whole  manner  something  even  more 
significant  than  the  subtly  suggestive  transposition  of  his 
words. 

"  It  is  a  lie,"  he  said. 

But  Lilith  stood  silent.     Of  what  use  are  words — 


THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW  321 

to  the  man  who  needs  them.  Chisholm  straightened 
himself;  his  ebbing  faith  was  back  full  flood.  A  low 
sound,  half-curse,  half-groan,  reached  the  girl  at  his  side, 
even  through  the  hammering  of  her  heart  in  her  ears. 

"  And  I  doubted  you ;  God  forgive  me,  I  doubted  you ! 
Now,  you  scoundrel " 

His  voice  trailed  off  into  silence.  The  winds,  working 
their  wicked  will  up  and  down  the  platforms,  seized  his 
words  and  tore  them  into  shreds  behind  him.  Graeme 
was  gone. 


"  It  was  a  moment,  only  a  moment." 

So  Chisholm  in  passionate  penitence,  in  abject  apol- 
ogy. Lilith  smiled  as  she  heard  it,  and  her  smile  was  a 
little  wan  though  she  rested  in  the  heaven  of  his  arms. 
The  man  who  has  doubted  once  can  doubt  again.  He 
had  never  believed  in  her — quite.  He  never  would. 
Passionate  protest,  vehement  denial  availed  nothing.  The 
thing  was.  Lilith  had  thought,  once  he  was  restored  to 
her,  to  touch,  indeed,  the  rainbow's  end,  to  grasp  at  last 
the  golden  key  to  happiness  that  lies  beneath  it.  And  lo ! 
once  again  it  was  in  the  next  field !  With  a  sigh  for  her 
dreams  she  turned  to  that  semblance  of  joy,  subdued  and 
chastened,  trembling  and  tiptoe  for  flight,  that  is  all  that 
human  folly  permits  us  to  know. 

"  We  will  forget,"  she  whispered,  her  lips  against 
the  rough  tweed  of  his  coat.  "  Perhaps,  in  time,  you  will 
know!  If  only  we  are  not — separated.  If  only  we  can 
work — together !  " 


THE   END 


"A  Powerful  Portrayal  of  the  Strongest  Passions" 

IN  AMBUSH 

By  MARIE  VAN  VORST 

Author  of  "  The  Sin  of  George  Warretur;'  etc 

A  Striking  novel  of  adventure,  mystery,  and  romance,  with 
varied  change  of  scene.  The  story  opens  in  an  Alaskan  mining 
camp,  then  moves  to  Egypt,  where  a  stirring  battle  between  the 
British  and  the  wild  tribes  of  the  Sudan  is  depicted,  and  finally 
returns  to  this  country  and  Kentucky.  Miss  Van  Vorst  has  done 
the  unusual  in  making  her  hero  a  man  with  an  unsavory  past,  but 
whose  redemption  and  repentance  are  so  sincere  the  sympathy  and 
admiration  of  the  reader  are  completely  with  him. 

"  Full  of  incidents  of  a  strong  and  stirring  nature  which 
will  keep  the  interest  of  the  reader  strongly  exercised." 

— New  York  Sun. 

1 2mo.     Decorated  cloth,  ;^  1 .  50. 


**A  Stirring  Story  of  Conspiracy" 

The  Man  m  the  Tower 

By  RUPERT  S.  HOLLAND 

Author  of  "  The  Count  at  Harvard,"  etc. 

A  dramatic  story  based  upon  the  legend  of  "the  invisible 
prince,"  John  Christian  XX,  Prince  of  Athelstein,  whose  throne 
was  stolen  from  him  by  the  regent  while  he  was  forced  into  banish- 
ment. The  narrative  tells  how  the  prince  played  a  winning  game 
in  thwarting  the  conspirator  by  marrying  Uie  very  princess  whom 
the  regent  was  depending  upon  for  the  carrying  out  his  nefarious 
schemes. 

"  He  handles  his  plot  of  mystery  ar.d  surprise  with  infinite 
discretion.  And  he  sweeps  us  along  with  him  from  coyer  to 
cover  without  a  diminution  of  interest.'' 

— Boston  Evening  Transcript. 


FRONTISPIECE    IN    COLOR    AND    BLACK    AND    WHITE 

ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  FRANK   H.    DESCH. 

i2mo.     Cloth,  I1.50. 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  PHILADELPfflA 


ROBERT  HICHENS'  GREATEST  NOVEL 

BELLA  DONNA 

Again  Robert  Hichens  has  taken  his  reader  to  Northern 
Africa.  This  time  to  the  Nile  Valley  and  its  sands,  its 
rocky  wilderness  and  the  ruins  of  millenniums.  Here  his 
rich  imagination  has  developed  one  of  those  Anglo-Oriental 
romances  in  the  weaving  of  which  he  has  proved  himself 
a  past-master.  Again  the  reader  may  enjoy  the  vivid 
coloring  of  his  pen  pictures  of  the  desert.  His  descriptive 
powers  have  lost  none  of  their  force. 

As  in  "The  Garden  of  Allah,"  we  have  in  Mr. 
Hichens'  new  novel  the  mystery  of  the  Orient,  idealism, 
romance,  the  great  expanse  of  the  desert.  Northern  Africa 
is  the  scene  of  "  Bella  Donna" — the  valley  of  the  Nile,  its 
rocks  and  ruins  and  sandy  wastes,  form  its  background. 
The  story  deals  with  the  conflict  of  an  earthly  woman  and 
a  man  of  ideals — a  woman  who  loves  the  material  pleasures 
of  the  earth  and  knows  nothing  about  "  conscience  "  and 
"soul,"  while  the  man,  her  direct  opposite,  looks  into 
material  matters  for  the  spiritual  and  ideal. 

««It  is  Egypt  as  'Kim'  is  India." — New  York  Times. 

"  A  remarkable  piece  of  work,  as  noteworthy  in  its  way 

as  « The  Garden  of  Allah '  or  '  The  Call  of  the  Blood.'  " 

— San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"Such  a  novel — substantial,  powerful,  overwhelming 
in  its  inevitable  climax — as  comes  to  the  public  only  once 
or  so  in  a  decade." — St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  best  novels  we  have  ever  read,  and 
quite  the  best  that  Mr.  Robert  Hichens  has  written.  It 
combines  the  two  elements  of  which  every  good  novel 
ought  to  be  composed,  subtle  analysis  of  character  and  an 
exciting  plot" — Saturday  Review,  London. 

i2rao.      Decorated  cloth,  $1.50. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 


PHILADELPHIA 


L    '  ._UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAl  1  BRAry  t 


A     000  126  868     9 


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